LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

©1^. inpiriig]^ Ifn, 

— '- ^5 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



FRO Mi 



TAPS TIIiIi REVEME. 



BY GEORGE A. WALLACE. 



7 votidcr lf\ irjifii ii'cniiKj rail a 

Tlir 1iiUci'i< fruiii l/ir Mrccl. 
And ill tlw lirrli(/]ifs nidilij ylnn'. 

TliP piiri' ill Jiearf i<}iall meet. 
If tliei/, lehu .s/V /■(/ stileiicr tlieir. 

Or heuijli or Je><t (d rejjdiiee. 
Win iiilx>> (III dill fiiiiiiJiar face, 

And hreidlie a prni/er far me: 



-^'^^ — X — •-Jtf — e=<r'» 



BOWLING GREEN, KY.: 
Fkoai thic Prf.ss of thk Pakk Citv Daily Ti.\ii-:s. 




K 







Ainoni^' tlie women of the world is one wlio 
hears my name. I have, under the laws of my 
state and country, stolen the title that tlistin- 
guished her before the theft was committed. 

To Lucy, who lo\ed me in prosperity and 
stood by me in adversity, in whose arms Leona, 
an artist's dream in flesh and blood, that God 
loaned us for a little while, fought with death, 
in whose love I live, and on whose faith I rest, 
this book is dedicated. 
L()^ls^■II.LI■:, Ivv., March, 1895. 




COPYRIGHT BY 
GEO. A. WALLACE, 

APRIL, 1895. 






9" 






CONTENTS. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

Dedication 

Preface 

From Taps Till Reveille 8 

Lenihan's Ride •. . . 14 

I Stood Alone 18 

Grandpa Barnes 22 

Some Facts About Women 27 

Bill ......./......• 35 

The Massacre 38 

The Grand Army of the Republic 40 

Jess 42 

Scold Her Every Day 45 

Iron Bull, The Crow Chief 48 

Smoothing The Wrinkles. Out 52 

When The Daylight Conquers Night 54 

Why One Drummer Fell 56 

The Reunion 64 

Salute Your Chief 67 

The Poodle and the Noodle . . . 6g 

Declaration of Principles ■ 71 

The Modern Rule jy 

The Mother's Answer 78 

Martyrdom and Monuments • 7q 



CONTENTS. 

Mamie 82 

JosiE 84 

Charley and Luella Make Up 87 

Ethel and the Alligator 92 

Before and After 94 

Some Famous Woman Suffragists 97 

Charley's Appeal 105 

Some Christmas Thoughts About Giving 107 

Robert and the Star 113 

Gene 114 

Some Famous Fat Women 116 

How to Behave at a Hotel 118 

I'm Coming, Never Fear 123 

Growing Old .125 

The Little Maiden's Prayer 128 

Business Rules . 127 

The Call 131 

The Priest and The Mad Cap 133 



pef 






uee. 



When my first booklet, "Songs Of A Weary Pilgrim," was 
given to the public, to which I now submit " From Taps Till 
Reveille," I did not expect it would receive so cordial a recep- 
tion. As a wise father knows the imperfections of his children, 
and knows that others know them, I recognize the defects 
of my mental offspring, and know that others see them. I 
fully appreciate the generous criticisms of those who find 
some merit in what I have written. Competent critics ha\'c 
passed judgment; and their endorsements are very dear to 
me. Many intelligent people, with neither time nor inclina- 
tion for continuous and varied reading, have derix'ed pleas- 
ure from my writings. We belong to different intellect- 
ual worlds but I can say, without egotism, that I am like 
Richter in one respect, I love God and little children. I 
cherish, most of all, the ap[)roval of the embryonic men and 
women who read and enjoyed and told me so. The unbought 
love of a little child outweighs the friendship of a king; and 
praise from its lips is sweeter than the gratulations of a prince. 
I move in the ranks of those who bear the burdens and fight 
the battles of the world — the common people, and do not pos- 



FR(.L^[ TAPS TILL liF^VKlLLE. 



sess the culture of a finished scholar. The critics will 
doubtless remember that I voice the sentiments of a common 
man, and that I am not an aspirant for literar}- fame. It may 
be that some, who will pass by the immortal lines of master- 
thinkers and sentence-builders, will read m}' fleeting \'erses 
and sketches and be happier and better for doing so. If what 
I write helps and pleases those who read I shall be satisfied. 

\\ hile artificial distinctions in societ}' are sometimes neces- 
sary, they are, almost without exception, the results of pride 
and selfishness. There are wrongs to right; there are barriers 
to break down; there are inequalities to remo\'c; there are 
factions to unite; there are prejudices to overcome. 

Men and women are made for loxe and service, and are 
mutualh' dependent. They belong, not only to home circles, 
but to the masses, not onh' to the State, but to the world, and 
an}' m^n who can add to the sum of human happiness is bound 
to contribute. In m}' limited sphere I have labored with tongue 
and pen to unify people alienated b}' prejudice or on account 
of sex. I ha\'e fought, in public and in pri\-ate, against 
those whose assumptions of superiority are offensive, whose 
arbitrary exercise of power and exclusixcness embitter the 
lives of others and arouse popular discontent. 

Kindred spirits may find something in " From Taps Till 
Reveille" to cheer them in their efforts to bring light to those 
who sit in darkness and jo}- to those whose cups of sorrow are 
overflowing. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVKLLLE. 

The war is over and we have an indissoluble union which 
thoughtful men pronounce the crowning miracle of modern 
times. Men who are loyal, and women who are patriotic,''should 
forget as rapidly as possible the sectional differences that pre- 
cipitated the war between the States, and unite their prayers, 
their influence, and their efforts, against the forces that 
threaten our national life. 

The title of this book is militar^^ I wore the blue and 
have no apologies to olTer for so doing, but recognize the 
sterling qualities of my kinsman who wore the gray. I would 
not, if I could, say an\'thing to array the men who marched to 
the music of the Union against those who threw contesting 
battle lines before their ad\'ancing columns. Vital questions 
were submitted to the people and ciecided by the arbitrament 
of war. The decision is generally accepted as final and satis- 
factory. The rightness or wrongness of the men who fought 
for or against the Union is not discussed in these pages. We, 
in whose favor the decision was made, have no doubt about 
the justness of our cause, but we are not unmindful that those 
who opposed us, whether they were right or wrong, were brave 
and generous, conscientious and self-sacrificing. We, while 
holding inviolate the principles for which we fought, are dis- 
posed to forget the past with its chambers of horrors, full of 
tears, and sighs, and dead men's bones,''and to unite with them 
in perpetuating the republic and defending it against internal 
anci external foes; to stand on the xantage ground of the 



FiiOM TAJ'S TILL UKV l-'.l LI.K. 

present and look forward, \\here lo\'e sii^nals, and not back- 
ward, where hate beckons. 

Durini;' the winter of 1867, in the depths of the mountains, 
beyond the boundaries of civilization, a detail from my regi- 
ment and some teamsters and prospectors gathered around 
the same camp fires. Some of the soldiers had served in 
the regular army from the beginning of the cix'il war until its 
close, and still wore its uniform. Some of the citizens had 
fought with the Confederate army from the bombardment of 
Fort Sumpter until its standards were lowered at Appomattox. 
We had no quarrels, no recriminations, no misunderstandings; 
we were welded together b\' common dangers and common 
sufferings ; were surrounded b\' h-nx-e}^ed enemies and 
exposed to the pitiless fury of chilling winds and blinding 
storms, and our safety and comfort depended upon unity of 
thought, purpose, and action. Like causes demand that a 
similar sentiment pre\'ail, and from the iVtlantic to the Pacific, 
and from the Lakes to the Gulf. As fellow citizens we haxe 
mutual interests and mutual dangers, and should be unitetl 
against our mutual foes. 

It is impossible for all nTcn to think antl belie\'e alike, and, 
recognizing this fact, we should grant to others the rights that 
we so strcnuoush' insist upon h:)r ourselves. The success of 
one is the success of alL The failure of one is the failure of 
all. We are to determine whether a "government of the peo- 
ple, by the people, and for the people," is possible. The 



FROM TAPS TTLL REVEILLE. 

rcsi)on.sibility is on us and \ve cannot shift it. The present, 
and not the past, requires our best thoui^hts, and our actions 
now will determine the future of the Nation and of the indi- 
viduals composing it. 

Those who reap in peace where others sowed in war should 
not forget the men whose fame has girdled the globe — the 
grizzled veterans, who are patiently waiting for taps to sound. 
Their ranks are thinning fast and in a little while the earth, 
like a gentle mother, will carry in her bosom the last of the 
\'olunteers. In the soil their blood enriclies will lie side by 
side the sons of Puritans and cavaliers until reveille is sounded 
from heavenly hills and they pass out of sleep into life eternal, 

"Where the war drum tlirobs no longer, 
And the battle flaes are turled." 



t 



FT? 0.1/- TAPS TTLL REVEILLE. 



prom fpaps fpill I^G\)eill( 



We are resting now; the fight is over and soldiers gather 
around the camp fires and discuss the da}' that has been o\'er- 
full of dangers and hartlships. Not all who answered the call 
to arms in the earl}- morning are in the groups that wait for 
taps to sound. Some, who rode with us into the ranks of the 
enemy, lie scalped and mangled in the rax'ines and on the 
mountain side, where the}' went down before the merciless 
Sioux. The ca}'otes' sharp bark and the wolves' hoarse howl 
beget horror and chill the blood of men who fronted death 
with smiling faces a few hours before. We know, that before 
we can give them decent burial, the mutilated bodies of our 
dead comrades will be torn into fragments b}' ravenous beasts 
that are, even now, fighting o\'er them. To-morrow will dawn 
but not for them. They ha\'e seen their last sunrise and 
heard their last roll-call on earth. We will watch a new day 
come from the East and think of their scattered bones that its 
sun will warm and its night will chill. Men who face danger 
without displa}dng an}' signs of fear stand aghast when the 
skeletons of their loved and honored dead pass before them. 
Though night has fallen, and the}' are far awa}', we can see 
them as distinctl}' as if the sun were shining and we were 



FKOM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

standing where they fell: — Imagination is not fettered by night. 
* * * -* * * -* 

Taps, the drum-throbs, die away. Fires are extinguished, 
lights are out, voices are hushed. Men who march must 
rest, and men who fight must sleep. The awful stillness is 
oppressive and almost unbroken. As we lie in silence we hear 
nothing but the rhythmic footfalls of the wild beasts that prowl 
around the camp and call to each other; the measured tread 
of the sleepless guards as they pace to and fro, and the sent- 
ries calling the hours. 

The old campaigners, who have fought under many flags, 
in many countries, are asleep on their arms; but sleep comes 
not to a young soldier. In the early watches of the night he 
lies like one in a trance. I-ong after the sentinels have called 
the midnight hour lie is awake and thinking over the extents of 
the day. He, a slender, brown-haired boy of sixteen, enlisted 
more than a }'ear before, has passed through his first baptism 
of fire. The excitement of the conflict no longer sustains, and 
conscience troubles and fears haunt him. We had run into 
an ambuscade and had fought with the valor of desperation 
against fearful odds. In the running fight that followed his 
horse stopped suddenly and he found himself face to face 
with a mounted vvarrior who chanted his war song as he placed 
an arrow against his bow string, and while he was bringing it to 
a level with his breast, boy as he was, he saw the importance of 
immediate action, and lowerino" his rifle fired before the arrow 



10 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

sped. The shot went home and the warrior fell from his pony. 
He was glad that he had escaped with his life and the duel 
was o\'er, but somehow the dead man drove sleep awa\' and 
brought fears to torment him. Glittering, bead-like eyes 
peered at him out of the darkness, and a cruel, malignant face 
touched his own as he lay under his blankets and heard, over 
and over again, the song tJiat leaped from the throat of the 
falling warrior, that would never sing again. His thoughts 
turned eastward, and memory reproduced an old farm house 
in which he was born and where he lived in peace with those 
who loved him. He thought, too, of the hours that he had 
spent by his mother's knee reading in her big lettered Bible. 
He recalled some passages that troubled him. " Thou shalt 
not kill," the book said, and a man lay dead on the mountain 
side slain by his own hand. "Whoso sheddeth man's blood 
by man shall his blood be shed," it declared, it seemed to him, 
in tones of thtmder. Was he a murderer? Would- savage men 
avenge? He was dazed and could not answer. One thing he 
knew the blood of a man was on him and he could not shake 
it off. His hands were red with blood and he could hear it 
drip, drip, drip, from his finger tips. How could he, if the 
avenger should come and take life for life, stand in judgment 
before one who died for his enemies? Would the avenger 
come, and when? Would he come that night? He thought 
of a gray-haired sire and a sweet-faced mother counting the 
slowly passing days and waiting for a runaway's return. Would 



FROM TAPS TILL IlEVEILLE. 

he ever return? Would he ever see them again, and place 
his bloody hands on their snowy heads? He thought, too, of 
the warrior lying on the mountain side, where he fell, battling 
against the enemies of his race, with his face turned upward so 
that God and the avenger of blood could see it, and of those 
who would watch and wait in vain for his home coming. 

If he could ha\'e returned life, as he had taken it, he would 
have breathed it into the prostrate form of his dead foeman 
and sent him unharmed to the squaw that loved him. in her 
savage way, and the little pappooses that played about his 
wigwam. He would have gladdened the heart of an old chief, 
who rode no more with his tribe, and an old woman whose 
race was almost run, by bringing to life the stalwart son in 
whom their loves and hopes centered. He thought — but sleep 
came at last, and after sleep came reveille. In the morning 
he was free from fear and his conscience was at rest. While 
he slept, God wrought. Although he felt that self-preserva- 
tion was the first law of nature, and that he was guiltless, he 
prayed that war might pass away and peace reign undisturbed 

forever. 

******* 

The few \'eterans of the civil war that remain have made 
their last march and fought their last battle. Their swords 
are sheathed, their flags are furled, their arms are stacked. 
They are growing old and are waiting for taps to sound, know- 
ing that after taps comes sleep, and after sleep re\'eille. They 



12 FliOM TAPS I'ILL JiEVEILLE. 

believe in immortalit}', that after the night of death comes the 
morning of resurrection. As they wait, they talk about their 
marches and counter-marches, their victories and defeats, of 
the men who marched, and bivouacked, and fought with them, 
and their faded e}'es brighten as they recall the historic fields 
their heroism made immortal. In softer tones they speak of 
those who fell out of ranks — whose generous deeds are unfor- 
gotten and whose bones hallow the soil that hides them from 
human sisrht. 



Taps, an invisible drum, is throbbing now. Old men who 
answered "here," when they heard the call for volunteers in 
sixty-one hear and understand. Lights are out, fires are 
extinguished, voices are hushed. The heroes of the republic 
are entering into their last sleep. The}' are not sinless, these 
veterans of Manassas, and Shiloh, and Cold Harbor. They 
are few and feeble, but faith abides and courage remains, and 
they are not afraid. The voice of duty is the voice of God. 
When it called they answered, and He will remember. They 
felt the uplifting power of great principles and offered them- 
selves as sacrifices on the altars of their country. They are 
not without regret, for " war is barbarism and you can't refine 
it," said one who led his conquering army from Atlanta to the 
sea, and their lives on tented fields and battle plains were not 
stainless, but they fought, and suffered, and left the conse- 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 13 

quences with God — the only being to whom they bend the 
"supple hinges of the knee." They are worn, and withered, 
and bent, and some are battle scarred. Whether they fought 
with Grant or Lee, with Sheridan or Forrest, with Farragut or 
Semmes, they are proud of the past made glorious by their 
courage and constancy. They settled questions that disturbed 
a Nation's peace and threatened a Nation's life. Some were 
wrong, no doubt, but they were brave. The laurel and the 
bay are for the brows of men who place their lives in peril for 
a principle, and suffer for conscience sake. Oncoming genera- 
tions will make due allowance for biased judgments and sec- 
tional prejudices, and crown all who dared and suffered, 
whether they won or lost. 

They are strangely uniformed, who lie in the darkness wait- 
ing for sleep to come. Some are in citizens' clothes, some 
wear blue blouses from Gettysburg, some wear grey coats 
from Appomattox, and some (be it said to the everlasting 
shame of an ungrateful people), are clothed in rags. 

Sleep conquers the last of the volunteers. The drama is 
finished and the curtain falls. It will rise again when God's 
buglers sound reveille and the mighty host rises, rank on rank, 
to salute the Prince of Peace, and there breaks over earth, and 
sea, and sky, the eternal morning. 



14 FROM TAJ'S TILL RLVKILLE 



benit^an's I^ide. 



Lenihan, a comrade of mine in the Twenty-seventh United 
States Infantry and the Indian war of '66 and '67, in the Big 
Horn country, was a handsome young fellow with many graces 
of mind and body, although he came from the slums of New 
York. He was intelligent but illiterate. I have sometimes 
thought that the ride he made from the hay fields to Fort C. F. 
Smith, which was a race for life from the starting point until 
he approached the fort, was one of the most daring ever made 
voluntarily, and worthy of honorable mention. The soldiers 
and teamsters in the hay field made a gallant fight against 
overwhelming odds and would have been massacred if rein- 
forcements, brought through Lenihan's ride, had not reached 
them before night fully fell. 

By the Big Horn's sullen flow. 
Where the Indians hunt and row, 

Soldiers guard the gathered hay; 
Quickly, as the lightnings flash, 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 15 

At the guards red warriors dash, 
Hurling death, one autumn day. 



Ride, Lenihan, ridel The Sioux's war song. 
From savage throats swells fierce and strong, 

As they ride on unmoved by fear, 
While flows the hated white man's blood, 
And falls the sunset's golden flood. 

They chant their death song loud and clear. 

Ride, Lenihan, ride! Brave men at duty's posts, 
Fight face to face with bead-eyed hosts, 

That swiftly charge and quickly disappear, 
Then come again with harsh, resounding cry. 
That chills hot blood, while fallen watchers die, 

And brings to swarthy cheeks the hues of fear. 

Ride, Lenihan, ride I The ranks are thinning fast. 
And some sleep on though calls the bugle blast. 

And night and death are drawing nigh; 
On snowy peaks the yellow sun hangs low. 
While shadows gather on the plains below. 

Where wandering night winds soon will sigh. 

Ride, Lenihan, ridel If falls a starless night. 
Red, sinewy forms, in its uncertain light. 
Will glide like serpents o'er the 1)roken wall, 



16 FBOM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

That shelters men from love and home away, 
For whom will never break an earthly day, 
Above the brooding mountains bald and tall. 

An Irish boy uncrowned by wealth or fame, 
Sat like a god the steed with eyes aflame, 

That bore him safely on a winding way. 
With sure, untiring feet and lightning speed, 
As if he knew the soldiers' pressing need. 

Who held, unhelped, the swarming Sioux at bay. 

From river's brink and yawning, dark ravine, 
Moved chanting on, with hideous garb and mien, 

The matchless riders of a fearless race, 
To intersect where woodland yields to plain, 
They urge their steeds with stinging spur and rein 

While passion plows each cruel, crafty face. 

To the same place, where woodland yields to plain. 
He gallops on and looks not back again. 

Beyond that point the old fort lifts its walls. 
Above the clang of hoofs on earth and rock. 
And cries of men, who join in battle shock. 

He hears his comrades ringing calls. 

Unharmed he rides, though arrows cleave the air 
That fans his cheek and rifts his flowing hair. 
And leaves behind the vengeful sons of hate; 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 17 

Where dark walls frown he sees a flag afloat, 

And hears through guarded gate a bugle note, 

Yet faster rides lest he should be too late. 

On snowy peaks the yellow sun hung low, 
While shadows gathered on the plain below. 

On river's breast and rock-strewn mountain side, 
When troopers came, where men crouched low. 
To drive away their fast triumijhing foe, 

And backward turn the battle's movinsr tide. 



In border legends of the brave, 
Live the boy who rode to save. 

On that fateful autumn day; 
Live the messenger that brought 
Help to hopeless men who fought, 

While relief was far away. 



IS FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



1 Stood oAlon^. 



We stood alone and watched the gleaming sun 

Sink in its fleecy bed of blue and gold, 
And felt a blended life had just begun, 

Whose wealth of joy could not be told. 
About my yielding neck were fast entwined 

Her shapely arms, as white as mountain snow, 
And to my breast, where purest love was shrined, 

I pressed her golden head, long, long ago. 

We stood alone till darkness veiled the land, 

And lowering clouds obscured the leaden sky, 
But in the gloom she pressed my brawny hand, 

As if to say, "Why, sweetheart, you are nigh, 
On you, so true and strong, I'll ever call, 

When danger looms and skies are overcast; 
We're partners now, and you, so brave and tall. 

Will shelter me till dangers all are past." 

We stood alone outside the door ajar. 
One sultry, starlit night in leafy June, 

And talked of surging hosts on fields afar. 
Where men must struggle hard and soon. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 19 

I, too, had heard the trumpet's angry cry, 
Had caught the rhythmic sound of marching feet, 

And must leave her, with courage bounding high. 
To fight on fields where hostile armies meet. 

We stood alone until the trumpet's peal, 

Borne clear and strong upon the midnight air, 
Called me to go, come woe or weal, 

From all that made my young life fair. 
She pressed her ripe, red lips to mine, 

Held my bronzed cheeks in her white hands. 
Then bade me go join the waiting line 

And march to war with freedom's moving bands. 



1 lay alone on many a crimsoned held. 

Whose furrows, overfull of human blood. 
Bespoke the stubborn foes that would not yield. 

Until their blood run like a raging flood. 
Full long I lay among the gallant dead. 

And heard the wailing cries of stricken men. 
Who made the pitying earth their dying bed. 

Afar from homes they would not see again. 

I lay alone on blood red fields afar 

From her whose love enriched my lonely life, 
Who stood without our cottage door ajar 

And bade me go into the deadly strife. 



20 FROM 7M/'.S TILL liEVEILLK. 

I liravely fought for liome aiul iiati\"e laml, 
Till victory came and 1:)attle flags were furled. 

Till God held back war's vengeful hand 
And sent His peace into a battling world. 



I stood alone outside the door ajar, 

One sultry, starlit night in leafy June, 
And called to her: Come, see my battle scar; 

Come sing with me some old war tune. 
You heard, with me, the trumpet's angry cry. 

And caught the rhythmic sound of marching feet, 
You sent me forth, with courage bounding high. 

To fight on fields where hostile armies meet. 

I stood alone while light that softly strayed 

Above her door fought shadows in the hall, 
I gently called, lest she should be afraid. 

And smiling, waited for her answering call. 
It never came- -enwrapped in robes of snow. 

She, whom I called, lay in untroubled sleep, 
How could she hear my pleading call so low. 

Or see me bend my aching head and weep? 

I stood alone within the little room, 
Her dear, dead hands had fashioned into life, 

With her who fought amidst the gathering gloom. 
With none to Irelp in tlae unequal strife. 



FROM TAPS TILL LEVEILLE. 



21 



Whose pilgriin feet had touched a peaceful land, 
And trod its sunny paths with faultless grace, 

Somehow, I felt, she blessed the mangled hand 
That lingered on her pallid, upturned face. 




FROM TAPS TILL liKVElLLK. 



Qrandpa Ie)arr\es. 



Grandpa Barnes sat under a spreading maple one summer 
afternoon with half shut eyes and compressed lips, scarcely 
conscious of his surroundings. He was living in the past, and 
memory was reproducing the sights and scenes of its hallowed 
years. He had been a man of commanding presence in his 
prime, and in his decline looked like a hercules in ruins. His 
massive brow was crowned with snow}^ hair that was once, 
like his shaggy eyebrows, as black as a raven's wing. 
His broad back, that had borne burdens for more than 
an ordinary life time, was bent by age, and his thin, white 
hands were folded on his bosom. He was alone. Within 
calling distance merry children were playing and older people 
were attending to their affairs or exchanging the courtesies 
and gossip of the day, but they were not in his thoughts. 
He was an alien, in the world but not of it, a stranger in a 
strange land. The hurrying throngs on the public streets 
and the little crowds that gathered under the shadow of his 
ancestral home were as strangers to him and spoke in unknown 
tongues. The little children who sat around his table and 
about his fireside lived in the future and knew nothing of the 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

precious world in which he dwelt — the shadowless past. Their 
elders lived in the present anci their language was meaningless 
to him. There was between him and them an impassable gulf 
over which neither could come nor go. Lallie.the only woman 
he had ever loved — Lai, he called her, in the dear old da}'s 
when she answered back every time he called — was dead. For 
a score of winters the snow had blanketed her narrow bed 
under the pines, and for as. many summers the birds had sung 
in the rose tree that shed its fragance and lifted its crimson 
head above her grave. He thought of her and recalled, 
one after another, the events that rounded out their lives, but 
thought most tenderly of the time when he sat, with aching 
heart and throbbing temples and tear-dimmed eyes beside the 
bed from which she was borne away forever; of the words of 
faith and tenderness that came from dying lips, and how, when 
she could not speak, she fixed her gaze on him and placed her 
hand on his bowed head as if to proclaim by look and touch a 
love that was stronger than death. 

Grandpa had been a soldier, and no braver man ever led a 
charge or resisted an advance. On a hotly contested field he 
had snatched a flag from a falling standard bearer, planted it 
within the enemies' lines and rallied his comrades about it. 
The broken sword and tarnished epaulettes in the big cedar 
trunk, in his upper room, were fairly earned and worthily 
worn. The men who touched elbows with him, when martial 
hosts were gathering, and marched under the same battle 



24 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

flags had passed out of ranks, They had heard an invisible 
captain calling their names, and like soldiers who were never 
absent when the roll was called, had answered " Here." 

He thought of them and, as he thought, the cords wo\en 
on bivouacs and battle-fields bound them closer together. 
The pioneer parson, who went to his appointment with a rifle 
in one hand and a Bible in the other, had gone to join the 
silent majority. The parson had heard the vows when he and 
Lallie were married, and had kissed, once only, the lips that 
ever afterward belonged to him. He and the parson were 
good friends for more than half a century. They slept many 
times under the same roof and worked " In His Name" before 
the parson had heard a voice saying: "Your work is done; 
come up higher!" 

Yes, he thought of the parson, as he sat under the shelter- 
ing maple, and of his first born, who went into battle and 
ne\'er came out again, who found a grave with the unknown, 
on the field where they bowed to death and will sleep in peace 
until re\-eille is sounded by God's trmiipcters and the}' awake 
in a warless world. He firmly believes that they, like enchant- 
ed warriors, are bound for a season; but someday, escaping 
from the power that holds them, will pass from dreamless sleep 
into unfailing life and live forever. Grandpa was almost 
asleep. He was wear}', oh, so wear\', and God sent sleep, 
sometimes when the sun was shining, to gi\'e him strength for 
the morrow. I Ic needed rest and comradeship and prayed 



FROM TAPS TILL RKVEIIAJ:. 

that his pilgrimage, among those who did not live in his world, 
might be short. 

Somehow he felt that his force was spent and that he was in 
the wa}^ of younger people who could not understand, and did 
not love him, like Lallie and the parson did. For four score 
years he had been a pilgrim with his face set toward Jerusa- 
lem. As he moved from milestone to milestone his path was 
often obscured, and sometimes hidden by lowering clouds, but 
faith pierced them and he pressed on, guided by the beckon- 
ing, undimmed lights of the eternal city which grew stronger 
and brighter as he neared the mysterious line where the bur- 
dens of life roll oft" and age takes on perpetual youth. 

Grandpa was never hopeless or despairing. When he was a 
little boy his mother gave him a Bible for a Christmas gift, 
which he read \'er}' carefully. lie could not imderstand ever}'- 
thing in it, but he thought a great deal about the promises, and 
when he was a man, whether in the depths or on the heights, 
he believed in and rested on them. 

Grandpa fell asleep and his chin rested heavily upon his 
breast, while his head rolled uneasily from side to side. A fair 
young girl, forsaking her companions on the play ground, ran 
to him and gently awakened him from his slumbers. She sat 
lightly upon his trembling knees; and as she plowed his snowy 
hair with her slender fingers, called him a laz\', old rascal 
told him to wake up and be sociable while she was around, and 
when he smiled she threw her arms around his \'ielding neck, 



FROM TAPS TILL ]IEVEILLK. 



pillowed her sunny head upon his bosom, and kissing his 
bloodless lips again and again, called him her dear, naught}' 
old grandpa. Grandpa was transformed. His face was lumin- 
ous, and his eyes borrowed a light that was not of earth. God's 
promises are sure. He had lost much, but love was left and 
love is heaven. Grandpa must wait awhile, but not long, for 
the tide which carried him out is ebbing now. Some day 
heaven will open to receive him, and one will come to guide 
him through chilly waters across its shining portals, and in 
that far-off land, untouched by sorrow and unclouded b}' care, 
Lallie and the parson with his comrades who so promptly 
answered "here" when their names were called, and the boy 
who made his grave with the unknown, will bid him good morn- 
ing. They willlook earthward and talk, I doubt not, as they 
walk on streets of gold and beside crystal waters of the fair 
young girl who brought the smiles, to grandpa's face one 
summer afternoon. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



lOtriG Pacts eAboat 09om9n. 



k 



While I have always advocated the rights of women and 
expect to do so until my lips are sealed by one who silences 
whom He will, I regret to see a tendenc}' among some of our 
modern advocates of equal rights to malign the Christian 
church. With all its faults and its inability or unwillingness 
to recognize and act upon the broad principles laid down b}' 
its founder, it has been, in past ages, and is now, the friend of 
women and has done more to exalt them than any other 
organization on earth. While the church, theoretically and 
practically, places women in a subordinate position and denies 
them the equality to which they are clearly entitled, christ- 
ian men are adopting more liberal views about women, and con- 
tinually adding to their rights and enlarging their privileges, 
and the time will come in which the church will be what 
Jesus Christ intended it should be — a pure republic. 

Sacred and profane history establish the fact that the man 
of Galilee was the unwavering friend of women when he 
was upon the earth, and tradition adds its testimonx' to the 
same fact. 



FJiOM TAJ'S TILJ. IIEVKILU:. 

I can understand how a sensualist, who regards sensual 
pleasure as the chief end of life, and, regarding women as 
pleasure producers craves unlimited power over them, can 
speak contemptuously of Him and the system of religion He 
came to establish; but I cannot understand how any enlight- 
ened woman, who knows how many blessings He brought to 
her sex, when it was degraded, can do so. The man who 
talked with the woman at the well and wrote in the sand was 
the avowed enemy of the social system which made the unre- 
strained sensualist a possibility, and I am not su.rprised when 
I hear him taking up the cry started in the streets of Jerusalem 
nineteen centuries ago, "Away with Him," "Crucify Him," 
"Crucify Him." 

I gi\'e below some facts concerning the condition of women 
in lands where the influence of Christianity was not felt that I 
have gathered from various authentic sources: 

Under the Roman law, which underlies and is embodied in 
our modern laws, the women were always discriminated against, 
not excepting the period when free marriages were allowed. 
The father was the center of authority in the family. The 
mother had no exclusix^e authority over her own children. 
The husband had absolute control over his wife's property. 
By marriage a woman lost her famil\' rights and could 
bequeath nothing to her relatives. She was considered a sister 
to her own children and the adopted daughter of her husband, 
who had over her the power of life and death. Gains imputed 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLK. 

to woman " levity of mind"; Cicero "infirmity of purpose," and 
Seneca characterized her as "a foolish, wild creature, incapa- 
ble of self control." 

By the old Teutonic Tribes she was assigned a secondar\' 
place. A husband could be an absolute tja^ant and could put 
out the eyes and break the limbs of his wife. A wife was 
purchased like any other piece of property by a husband who 
had the unquestioned right to sell, punish or kill her. 

Among the Greeks women were perpetual infants, and a 
public woman, however talented, was considered immoral. 

In Japan her condition was but little better, and in China 
and India it was worse. Confucius pronounced a woman no 
better than a slave, and hard to manage. He said: "Ten 
daughters do not equal one son. When she is young she 
must obey her father or elder brother, when married she must 
obey the husband, when a widow she must obey her son; she 
must not come to any conclusion of her own deliberation." 
While in China you couldn't bu}' a bo}^ at any price you could 
buy a girl for a dime. Girl babies were slaughtered by thous- 
ands because they were not wanted and were regarded as 
curses rather than blessings. 

Buddha, who believed in the transmigration of souls held 
out one hope to woman — one only -the possibilit}' that she 
might sometime or other become a man. The Brahmin 
would not permit a woman to read the Veda. She 'vas con- 
sidered soulless without a man. She was commanded to obey 



:;() F !!(>,][ T.ll'S TILI. liKVEII.LK. 

her husband without questioning, when he was living, and 
to be burned on his funeral pyre when he was dead. 

Mohammed treated women with contempt. When a son 
was born to a Moslem his friends congratulated him, when a 
daughter came they consoled him the best they could. The 
Arab sayings, " trust neither a king, nor a horse, nor a woman," 
and that "women are whips of the devil" are not meaningless. 
In the beginning of the race the struggle for existence was 
terrific, and physical strength was esteemed the most x'aluable 
possession. Women being physically weak had to be pro- 
tected and were classed with children and despised accord- 
ingly. They were good for nothing in particular but to act as 
servants, bear children and gratify the lusts of men. 

The qualities which distinguish refined womanhood now 
were then unrevealed, or if revealed were unappreciated by 
men who acknowledged the reign of lust and felt the greed of 
power, A man's wife was his slave without any rights that he 
was bound to respect. Tennyson aptly expresses the relation 
a wife of that day sustained to her husband after the marriage 
was fully consummated: 

"He shall hold thee when his passion shall have spent its novel force, 
Somethins;- better than his do,t^, a little dearer than his horse." 

China boasts of a civilization as old as the race. In that 
country women were counted inferior to men in every way. 
Confucius taught that the female sex was created for the con- 
venience of the male. Polygamy was practiced. A man's 



FROM TAPS TILL liEVJ'ALLL:. 31 

first wife was usually chosen from a family of equal rank. The 
inferior wives were usually purchased. Marital unfaithfulness 
was recognized as a sin only on the part of a wife, and a hus- 
band had the right to kill a wife who committed adulter}-. 
He, however treacherous he may have been, did not commit 
adultery except with a married woman, when some other man's 
possession was interfered with. 

In Japan a man could ordinarily have but one wife but as 
many concubines as he desired. Although Japanese women 
were essentially low in the social scale they were more fortu- 
nate than their sisters in many other barbarous or unchristian 
nations. Women were regarded as inferior by Buddhists and 
Brahmins alike, and lightly esteemed. Says the Hetopadera: 
"A woman is chaste when there is neither place, time nor 
person to afford her an opportunity to be immoral." 

A poem widely quoted in Ceylon sa}'s: 

I've seen the aduinbra tree in tiower, white plumage on the crow, 
And tishes footsteps in the deep have traced through ebb and flow. 
If man it is who thus asserts bis word you may believe, 
But all that woman says distrust, she speaks but to deceive. 

Mrs. Duffey says: In Oriental countries and among Mo- 
hammedans particularly, women are recognized as hax'ing 
been created but for one purpose— to gratify sensual passion, 
and as presenting but one predominant attribute, that of sen- 
suality. Among the wandering tribes of Central, Western and 
Northern Asia a wife was generally regarded as a thinsj pur- 



FllOM TM'S TILL nKVFALLK. 

chased and the property of her husband. Polygann' was not 
exceptional. Submission on the part of the wife was s}'ni- 
bolized in some way when the nuptials were celebrated. 

One tribe required the bride to pull off her husband's 
boots as a sign of servitude. In another tribe the girl's father 
gave the husband a whip and directed him to use it freely on 
his wife. In another nation the bride was brought to the pros- 
pective husband with the words, "Here, wolf, take th\- lamb. ' 

Some of the Bedouin women were very modest; in fact, with 
them modesty was regarded as the finest grace of the sex It 
is said that the bride was sometimes so coy that her husband 
was obliged to tie her up and whip her before she would yield 
to him. 

Among the Arabs, who were semi-civilized, in a christian 
sense, women were treated with greater courtesy, and more 
fully protected than in the countries named. And among 
the Hebrews they occupied a still more exalted position in 
public esteem. 

The church is not perfect and is not always abreast of the 
age. It is conservative, rather than progressive, and is seri- 
ously affected by its environments. Its members will be 
dominated more or less by satanic influences until the\' pass 
out of a mortal into an immortal life, and the church militant 
becomes the church triumphant. They are sinners saved by 
grace, who feel the limitations of the flesh and know b}' pain- 
ful experiences that inherited tendencies and prejudices are 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

not easily overcome, even with divine help. She should be 
judged fairly, and not unjustly assailed by reformers, whose 
ideas of liberty and development are in advance of their gen- 
eration. It is claimed, and in my opinion conclusively shown, 
that the men and women who have wrested liberty of thought 
and conscience from obstinate oppressors and political and 
property rights from organized greed have been, in nearly 
every instance, disciples of the great Commoner in whom 
divinity and humanity so beautifully blended. If we, who 
believe that liberty is necessary to development, and that it 
belongs to e\'ery human being, will do our best to create pub- 
lic sentiment and educate public opinion and not waste our 
time denouncing those who differ with us, we will not labor 

in vain. 

" He, watching over Israel, slumbers not nor sleeps." 

God, in Jesus Christ, will take care of his own. The poor arc 
His. The oppressed are His. The helpless are His. In every 
age since the shepherds saw His star in the East He has 
wrought among men and brought liberty to those who were 
in bondage. Shackles are breaking, fetters are falling, deliv- 
erance is coming, and the day of woman's exaltation is at 
hand. The signs of the times indicate that, within a quarter 
of a century, American women will be enfranchised and a 
citizen can sing, without blushing, as he cannot do now — 
" \() slave l)eneath the starry flag," 
In our western world will rise, on the ruins of the old, a 



34 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

new republic in which eligibility to citizenship will not be 
determined by the sex of the applicant. There will be, I trust, 
no violent revolution, no shock of contending" armies, no battle 
plains drenched with blood. The change will be easy and 
natural. The best of the old will be absorbed by the new and 
live in it. Impelled by a sense of justice, even now awakened, 
men will right the wrongs of a century by clothing women 
with equality under the law and permitting them to become 
citizens of a country they are taxed to support, and whose 
laws they are compelled to obey. The forces at work are 
irresistible and the result inevitable. 

"There's a light about to gleam, 

There's a fount about to stream, 

There's a flower about to blow, 

There's a warmth about to glow, 

There's a midnight darkness changing into gray, 

Men of thought, men of action, clear the way." 



V| . 



FJIOM TAPS TILL liEVEILLK. 



Bill. 



Unfelt the heat, untossed the hay, 
By sire and son one summer day. 



My ^ray haired sire, with quickening- breath, 
Talked of the holocaust of death 
That menaced home and native land — 
Of man's revolt and God's bared hand. 
I heard the story from his lips, 
And drank it in, as a wild bee sips 
The nectar from the opening flowers, 
Or thirsting earth, the falling showers. 

Across the field, with stately stride, 
My brother came to father's side 
To say Good-bye, ere he should go 
Where angry hosts surged to and fro. 
1 marked his uniform -whose hue 
Was like the arching sky so blue, 
1 touched his sword, it bore his narne — 
With which he conquered men and fame, 
On far-off fields bestrown with dead. 
Enriched with l^lood by heroes shed. 



FROM TAPS TILL liFAKILLE 

He rose full high in my esteem, 
And seemed the hem of my dream. 
When in my trundle l)ed I slept, 
And dreamed of war and loudly \vei)t, 
Because I could not pack a gun, 
And fiercely fight from sun to sun. 

The last farewells were (|uickly said, 
His shapely hands caressed my head; 
No tear drops laved my father's face. 
Brave son of an unfearing race. 
He bade his son be brave and strong, 
In stniggles tierce, on marches long, 
And sent him forth, with love and pride. 
To fight on fields, where legions died. 
And hear in swamps, the bloodhound's bay 
When far from prison walls away. 

When rose the sunset's after-glow, 
With tearful eyes I watched him go. 
And, as I sadly watched and wept, 
The gathering shadows o'er me crept. 
Till I could scarcely sce the hill. 
Where last I saw my brother Bill. 

I've packed a gun in many a fray, 
Since my big brother marched away. 
Have traveled long the way of life. 
And know its burdens, heat, and strife. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

But as I climb each towering hill, 
Far in advance moves brother Bill, 
A giant yet -he seems to me. 
Where e'er I go on land or sea, 

I'm weary now and bald and gray, 
And sometimes scarcely see my way; 
But even now, in life's decline, 
When pitying stars smile on and shine, 
Or angry tempests howl and weep. 
And haunting fears their vigils keep, 
I see, this side of Shadow Land, 
A massive form, a shapely hand, 
The gleaming sword, that bore his name, 
With which he conquered men and fame. 
And know the man, far down the hill, 
Is still my hero — brother Bill. 

Sometimes I think, when I bend low 
And hear the river's sullen flow. 
Then cross the flood that rolls between 
This dying world and one unseen, 
That I will see, in that strange land, 
A massive form, a shapely hand, 
A gleaming sword, that bears his name. 
With which he conquered men and fame, 
And he will be, in vision still, 
My hay field hero — brother Bill. 



;W FROM TAPS TILL liEVKILLE. 



^\lQ /Aassacre. 



Where the Big Horn pours its turbulent flow 

From the rock-ribbed mountains towering high 
The old fort crumbles where years ago 

It lifted its walls to the star-flecked sky; 
The wild .wolf prowls where our comrades sleep 

In their nameless graves by the crunibling walls, 
And our old stockade is a shapeless heap 

Where once we answered the bugle calls. 

Now battered and old are the builders all 

Like the mouldering walls that in ruins lie, 
We rally no more at the Captain's call 

Nor draw our swords at the trumpet's cry; 
Our battles are over, and we in peace 

Are waiting the angel that comes to all, 
That brings to the war-worn sweet release, 

And calls to a land where no shadows fall. 



We think sometimes of the vanished years 
And the stalwart forms that have gone for aye, 

Of hunger and thirst and maddening fears, 
And dangers that haunted us night and day; 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

We dream sometimes, when the nig^hts are lonj:^, 
Of the battles we fought in the dim star-light, 

Of the sabre's flash and the Sioux's war song 
And the harvest of death in the wintry night. 

We think of the massacre foul as hell 

On the mountain's side and by river's flow, 
Of the torrents of blood where our comrades fell 

In the hope'ess battle so long ago; 
We hear the shouts of our gallant men 

As they madiy fight in the ambuscade, 
The death song floats on the air again 

As it fiercely swelled when the charge was made. 

Of all who fought on that cruel day 

None ever came back to our ranks again; 
With glory they sleep where in death they lay 

All scalped and mangled by savage men; 
We honor our comrades who fronted death 

With cheeks unblanched in the throes of pain. 
Whose whitening bones feel the Winter's breath, 

The sun's fierce heat and the cooling rain. 

Where the serpents hiss and the coyotes cry, 
When the sun-light falls or the tempests weep, 

Where the storm king broods and wild winds sigh, 
Unknown and unsung our heroes sleep. 



40 FROM TAPS TILL BEVETLLE. 



fpl7e Qrand eArmy of ft^e I^Gpublic. 



■ A great many people do not fully understand the mission 
of the Grand Army of the Republic. It is, in some respects, 
like the Confederate Veterans' Association, and is one of the 
greatest peace organizations in America. Every comrade 
prays that our soil may never again be drunk with the best 
blood of our best people. 

The men who meet around its camp fires have been tested 
on many fields and know by experience the horrors of war. 
They conquered peace, and enjoy it by the right of conquest, 
and so long as the principles for which they fought are undis- 
turbed will counsel moderation, ''with malice towards none, 
and charity for all." 

One of the principles for which the}- contended is as old 
as God, and they are set for its defense. The men who have 
marched and bivouacked and fought don't want the war 
drum to throb any more or the bugle to sound another 
call to arms. The songs of contented women and little 
children are sweeter far to the gri/zlcd veterans of sixty- 
one and five than the maddening strains of martial music. 
The men who dug the trenches and slept in them, who built 
the forts and defended them, are not disposed to rouse anew 
the passions and antagonisms arousetl and engendered b}' the 



FROM TAJ'S TILL REVEILLE. 41 

civil war. While they recognize the inherent manhood, and 
honor the superb courage and matchless devotion, of those 
who hazarded all for the "Lost Cause," and hail as brethren 
the sturdy men who wept when the "Conquered Banner" was 
furled forever they do not abate their love for the truths for 
which they contended. They rejoice that in our great repub- 
lic there is no North, no South, no East, no West. As years 
roll by the " boys" desire more and more to meet and discuss 
the events in which they figured so conspicuously years ago 
and renew the friendships formed on perilous marches and 
tented fields, in prison walls and hospital tents. They are 
lion-hearted yet, and ready to do and dare, if occasion demands 
action or sacrifice, but their hoary heads and bent forms are 
prophetic. 

"The young may die, the old must." As age advances 
the gospel of peace and good will take on a more enchanting 
sound and thrills them as it has never done before It is like 
the ripple of cooling waters to those who leave the rainless 
desert behind them. 

They remember the weaknesses, but reverence the memory, 

of those who have passed out of ranks into the land of shadows. 

They can not forget their comrades who, wrappeti in their 

bloody shirts, rest on the fields where they met death with 

honor. Somehow thc\' believe and sing 

They wear the deathless crowns their valor won 
And tread with tireless feet the shining- way 
Beyond the gates ajar. 



42 FROM TAPS TILL IIKVEILLK. 



^^ss. 



You rave abcrut Ellen so young and fair, 
Her 'blushes and dimples and sunny hair; 
You envy the breezes that dance and play 
With her tempting tresses the livelong day. 
You sing of her pouting and ruby lips, 
The thrill they send to your hnger tijis, 
Of the clinging arms and the melting kiss, 
That makes your soul a sea of bliss. 

She is pretty and winsome, but I confess, 
She can't compare with my stately Jess, 
Whose raven crown puts night to shame. 
Whose dauntless spirit none can tame; 
Who stands erect with c[ueenly grace, 
And shows the world a fearless face, 
Wliere courage nestles and power sleejis. 
Where beauty lingers and ])assi()n weei)S. 

Her voice r\\v\^ like a trumi)et's blare, 
When tempe-ts rage in her bosom lair, 
But softlv woos when storms subside. 
Like the soothing song of an ebbing tide; 
Love haunts the <lei)tlis of her taunting eyes, 



FROM TAPS TILL liEVELLLK. 

But fears commingle with tears and sighs, 
When I see her go, with wilhng feet. 
To the trysting place where she will meet, 
A handsomer man than I. 

She is cold and grave, but gracious too, 
Whenever I call to "bill and coo," 
Ikit the toss of her head unnerves me so, 
I can not unfold my "tale of woe;" 
I can't say, " Sweetheart, hear me now. 
My vows believe, my prayers allow," 
But sit and stammer, while ill at ease. 
And shrink from one who is sure to please — 
A handsomer man than I. 

She is pious and proud, and people say. 
She is grace itself when she kneels to pray. 
She reads rare books and papers, too. 
And knows the tricks that charmers do; 
She i>lays the flute and the violin. 
In her cosy home as "neat as a pin," 
Her cheeks are rosy, but not with paint. 
And the dinner she cooks will tempt a saint, 
And a handsomer man than I. 

I love her madly and yet I know 
She thinks me a laggard, I dally so, 
I am going to make a gallant fight, 
And win or lose her this verv night; 



44 



FliOM TAPS TILL ItEVEIIJJ-: 



She is worth the wimiiii.i;", yes, I ween, 
Nniiylit lairer or purer on eartli is seen 
^'ou will marry your Ellen, well I ,nuess, 
I won't surrender my stately Jess, 
To a han(ls(Miier man than I. 




FROM TAPS TILL liEVEILLE. 4.-) 



Scold j+er 6\)Gry Day. 



PARODY on " KISS HER EVERY DAY." 



Says a cliarming singer, this side the sea, 

Singing of life as it ought to be 

And a fettered woman that once was free- 

" Kiss her every day." 
But Grad Grind thinking it doth appear 
That wi\'es love best the men they fear, 
Calls to each husband, far and near — 

"Scold her every day." 

Reader, have you got a wife.^ 

Scold her every day, 
Scatter all the joys of life, 

Scold her every day. 
Tell her she is looking jaded. 
That her roses all have faded, 
With your tongue, stiletto bladed, 

Scold her every day. 

Tell her she is growing flabby, 

Every passing day. 
That she's getting coarse and shabby, 

Scold her everv dav. 



4(; FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

Tell lier when a woman's man'ietl, 
Wounded, bruised, and hurt and hai'riecl, 
Love's advances all are parried. 
Scold her everv dav. 



Tell her you will never miss her, 

If she ^oes away, 
Tha< you'll flirt with Gene and kiss ker 

Forty times a day. 
Tell her she is not your crown, 
Always leave her with a frown, 
Never keep your temper down, 

Scold her every day. 

Winter, summer, rain or shine, 

Always sulk and lilame, 
Spring or autumn, always whine 

She's a shrew to tame, 
Tell her she is cross and cold. 
Common, shrunken, growing old. 
Other wives are good as gold, 

Scold her every day. 

When there's something wrong with baby, 

Scold her every day. 
She is sick and tired, maylie. 

Scold her any way. 
Scold her when her soul is sad, 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

Scold her when her heart is glad, 
Be your home life good or bad, 
Scold her every day. 

If she coyly comes behind you, 

Like a child at play, 
Gently throws her arms around yt)u, 

Dash them off, I pray; 
Tell her that her touch disturbs you, 
When she comes, as if to woo 
Back the love that once was true, 

Scold her every day. 

If you see her tear drojjs rise, 

Wijje them not away. 
If she weeps show no surprise. 

It is woman's way. 
Tell her when she sobs and sighs. 
She is ugly when she cries. 
Crying wives all men despise. 

Scold her everv day. 

If she begs you for a kiss, 

Scowl and turn away. 
Though she does not ask amiss. 

Scold her anyway. 
Do not think of other days, 
Of your old-time tender ways. 
Give not words of love or |iraise. 

Scold her e\erv da v. 



48 FRO.U TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



lror\ Bull, tl^e ^roW ^\q\. 



Among the Indians who visited our fort on the Big Horn 
river were Iron Bull and his squaw. He was a superb speci- 
men of physical manhood and had won renown by his prowess 
and feats of valor in man\' hird fought battles. .She was an 
attractive woman in many wa}'s,and superior to her dusky 
sisters in ever\' respect. Poets and writers of thrilling ro- 
mances have raved about pretty Indian women, but the}' are 
extremely scarce, as ever\' one who has lived among our 
Western tribes well knows. 

Iron Bull was a malignant cnenn' but a faithful friend, and 
had shown himself to be a sterling friend and ally of the 
whites. At one time he, with some other chiefs, had gone to 
Washington to see and confer with the great "White P'ather," 
and was greatly impressed with the wonderful sights he saw 
and awed by the numbers and superior intelligence of the pale 
faces. After this visit he opposed war with the whites, and 
having plighted his faith, resisted all the efforts of the \'ounger 
bucks to violate the treat}' and go on the war path. Tall, 
muscular and graceful, he was fierce but majestic in his bear- 
ing. No imperial potentate e\er sat upon a throne or trod 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 49 

the earth with more dignity, or greater pride, than this moc- 
casined and befeathered Chief of the Crows. He had achieved 
distinction by bravery and skill in battle and was as proud of 
his conquests as Napoleon could have been of his victories, 
and would never tire of describing the bloody conflicts in 
which he had engaged with alien tribes, and the trophies he 
had won from the Sioux and Blackfeet. He was very vain of 
his showy apparel and gorgeous trappings. Half barbarian as 
he was, he had too much respect for the whites to display 
the scalps he had torn from the heads of his victims, for 
before he had come in contact with civilixation he was as 
cruel and blood-thirsty as any other savage in that great 
hunting ground, "The home of the Crows." 

His wife had taken on many of the graces and refinements 
of christian people, and the writer remembers many delight- 
ful visits made by him and his comrades to her tent, and 
pleasant conversations with her and her husband. She had 
obtained a number of pictures, photographs of army officers, 
and little souvenirs from the few whites she had met, and she 
prized them very highly. When any of our men visited her 
she brought out her little "keep-sakes" and curiosities and 
exhibited them, giving in her broken English explanations 
about each article, not unlike an ingenuous country woman in 
her simplicity and desire to entertain, showing her guests her 
latest calico dress or the crazy c]uilt she has just completed. 
.She was quite hospitable and desired to please her callers and 



50 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

win words of commendation from them. No society queen in 
any of the social circles of our great cities could have displayed 
greater tact as a hostess than this untutored, semi-civilized, 
woman. 

This sketch is written to show how savagery yields to civili- 
zation and christian principle exalts the barbarous. 

Iron Bull was brave. No man dared, except at the peril 
of his life, to question his courage; but, like all warriors who 
live by the hunt and the chase and go to war, he was, so far as 
work was concerned, lazy, and would smoke or sleep while his 
wife carried wood and built fires upon which the venison he 
brought in was broiled or roasted. The country was a hunt- 
er's paradise, overrun by buffalo, bear, deer, elk, antelope and 
jack rabbits, and he was a mighty Nimrod — with his arrows he 
had slain many of the wild beasts that roamed in the valleys 
or prowled in the mountains. 

We who were "pilgrims in a strange land" will never 
wholly forget the rugged warrior and his kind-hearted squaw. 
For months at a time we never heard the voice, or looked into 
the face, of a white woman and the hours spent by us in their 
wigwam, nestling in the shadow of the great mountain, will 
abide with us as long as memory reproduces the sights and 
scenes of our vanished years. 

It may be that the place that knew these noble descend- 
ants of a dying, but heroic race, knows them no more. It is 
not itiiprol^able that thc\' ha\c gone to the "happy hunting 



FJIOM TAl'S TILL IIKVEILLE. 



5 J 



grounds," reserved by the Great Spirit for good Indians. 
Somehow we believe it is well with them, whether they walk 
together in the evening of life, or have passed out of its 
hurly-burly, into the land of shadows. They were rude and 
uncultured, but, when they saw the light they moved toward 
it, and our scriptures surely teach that at the end of every 
searcher's path stands Jesus, the great Revealer. We, who 
shared their generous hospitality, devoutly hope that they 
live in peace or tread the highways of a fairer world, where 
the death song never floats on the startled air and the war 
cry is never heard calling the braves to battle and to death. 



FROM TAPS TILL ItEVEITJ.K. 



§moofl]in(^ \\iq 09rinWGS ®ut. 



Whyl what are you doing, baby mine 

To grandpa's troubled face, 
That makes it softly beam and shine, 

Like a star agleam in space? 
Her voice was silvery, soft and low, 

As she quickly turned about, 
And said, "I love my grandpa so 

I'm smoothing the wrinkles out." 



You've a healing touch, oh baby mine. 

And a heart aflame with love, 
Flood furrows deep and gild each line 

With sun-light from above. 
O, touch, with yours, the bloodless li])S, 

That wait for you just now. 
The magic dwells in your finger tij)S 

To smoothe his furrowed brow. 

He is liattered and old, oh baby mine. 
And weary of pain and strife, 

The last to fight, of a noble line, 
On the battle fields of life. 



FUOM TAPS TILL RLVLJfLfj:. 

All gone are the comrades of long ago, 
Who answered the trumpets call, 

When the clouds of war were hanging low . 
O'er valley and mountain tall. 

You have winged your way, oh baby mine. 

From a realm of changeless liglit, 
To brighten the way of one, in time, 

Who threads his way by niglit; 
To lay on the withered breast of age, 

Your masses of sunny hair. 
And drive from a heart, where passions rage, 

The jihantoms of dark despair. 

You have brought the light, oh baby mine, 

To grandpa's troubled face, 
As I watch it softly beam and shine, 

Like a star agleam in sjiace. 
I bless the sweet voice, soft and low. 

And the girl that turned about. 
To say, " I love my grandpa so 

I'm smoothing the wrinkles out.' 



54 FliOM TAJ'S TILL nKVEILLE. 



W\iQr\ \\iQ Da^li|l7+ ^onquers J^i^l^i 



She sat on my knee, in the \ox\g, ago, 

A prattling child of three, 
And voiced, in sweet tones soft and low, 

Her boundless love for me. 
She stroked my hair and touched mv face 

With her dimpled fingers white; 
Then making my arms her resting i)lace, 

She waited the coming night. 

As it slowly fell we sat and dreamed 

'Neath the sheltering maple tree, 
While floods of light that brightly beamed 

Rolled downward into the sea. 
The zephyrs fanned my sun-browned face, 

Stirred gently her locks of gold — 
And we fell asleep in our trysting place, 

While the banner of night unrolled. 



I dreamed that a reajier, gaunt and grim. 
Came searching for golden grain. 

That ripened in fields defiled by sin. 
In a gruesome valley of pain. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

I shrank from his fateful deep-set eyes — 

His withered bird-like hand 
While clouds obscured the starless kies, 

And darkness veiled the land. 

He swept, with his eyes, my startled face, 

My shrunken form, and old, 
But chose one fairer, and full of grace. 

For the Shepherd's upper fold. 
When he waved his wand, a sunny head 

Found a pillow snowy white, 
And I cried aloud for my baby dead, 

'Till the daylight conquered night. 



I will see in heaven, now bending low, 

My prattling child of three, 
Who voiced in sweet tones, soft and K)w 

Her boundless love for me. 
She will stroke my hair and touch my face 

With her dimpled fingers white. 
And make my arms her resting place, 

When the daylight conquers night. 



o(3 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



091]^ ©tiG Drummer pell. 



Arthur started on his trial trip without realizing what it 
meant to him and what deplorable results would follow his de- 
parture. His home was a little heaven, where love reigned 
and its daily ministrations made life worth living His bright- 
eyed, sunny haired, wife was loving and resourceful, and he 
never knew when some new revelation would show how she 
planned for his happiness. He always accepted and returned 
kisses and caresses, but did not appreciate them fully until he 
reached the outside world, where the}- were for others and not 
for him. The children that came one by one into his heart 
and life never grew weary of showing their childish faith and 
love in touching and tender ways, and the young folks in his 
neighborhood seemed tireless in their efforts to show him how 
much he was to them. When he went away he found that faith 
and love and tokens of appreciation, that make the sum total 
of human bliss, had a great deal to do with the happiness of 
former days before he went out into the world to conquer 
fortune. 

He had kissed his wife and children and the tearful lasses 
who came to see him off, and with many protestation of affec- 
tion, gone to the train. When he 'vas seated in the smoker, 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

where he went, because he was slightly unnerved, and drum- 
mers were in the habit of doing so, he began to feel that some- 
thing had gone out of his life, but he was determined to show 
clear grit and dismissed, as unmanly or inconvenient, many little 
heart-suggestions abou.t home-life being the best life, and pre- 
pared for his battle royal, his first attack on a hard-headed, 
miserly old customer who was to be talked into buying some- 
thing he didn't want, or to dr^ive him ingloriously from the field. 
One thing seemed strange to him. His life had been lived in 
pleasant places and women entered into every day's doings, 
but in the future they were to be ruled out. The hackman 
that hauled him to the depot was a man; the manager that 
gave him instructions was a man; the clerk that furnished him 
his price list was a man; the agent that sold him his railroad 
ticket was a man; the conductor that punched it was a man; 
the news agent that sold him the paper, that he read with the 
assurance of one widely traveled, while he puffed the cigar 
that a man had sold him, was a man; when he left the omnibus, 
driven by a man, at the door of a hotel kept by a man; the 
clerk that sized him up, while he registered, w#s a man; a man 
showed him to his room, and his breakfast was served by a 
man; after breakfast he went to the postofifice with a man, and 
received his mail from a man; desiring to send a telegram, the 
operator, a man, received his message; a man shaved him while 
another man shined his shoes, and then he went up town to see 
a man. This was to be his life and the thought chilled him, 



58 FROM TAPS TILL REVETLLE. 

but he was not undone. Sunday was not far off and there 
would be some change, he thought. 

Sunday came and a man at the hotel, where he was stopping 
asked him to go to Sunday school. The invitation was accept- 
ed and he was soon in the place where sex distinctions are not 
so closely drawn. The hand-shaker, a man, met him at the 
door and introduced him to another man. The superintendent, 
a man, invited him to go into the men's Bible class, taught by 
a man. After the exercises were over he went up stairs, into 
the audience room, and heard a man preach a powerful sermon 
about a man. Nausea breeds discontent, and sameness wear- 
ies. Arthur was a domestic man; one of the rare creatures 
God sends into the world once in a while, that delights in lov- 
ing and being loved, and in ninety days of enforced abstinence 
and heart starvation he lived a century, so he felt. He loved 
women, as all good men, whether drummers or not, do, and 
was sick unto death of the whole man business. With him 
anything in petticoats was above par and he would have appre- 
ciated a tctc-a-tetc with a woman though she was ignorant and 
uncanny, more than he would have enjoyed an interview with 
the greatest wit that ever wore breeches. He was filled to the 
brim with natural affection and there was no one within reach 
upon whom he could lavish it. If he courtesied to some 
ancient maiden lady she withered him with a frown, or called 
a policeman. If he asked some pretty maiden the way to 
some place, he knew all about before asking, she seemed to 



FROM TAPS TILL BEYFALLE. 59 

divine his purpose and gave some flippant answer or passed 
him in silence with her nose out of balance. He received let- 
ters from home, in which the whole neighborhood sent kisses, 
but the envelopes were not big enough to hold velvet lips to 
touch his own and snowy hands to press his red brawn. 

As time passed on he felt that love, apart from its object, 
was not what it ought to be, and that its intensity and perma- 
nence depended largely on personal contact. He could love his 
wife of course — though she was far away — and she could love 
him, but the caresses that love gives could not scale mountains 
and swim rivers, and such love was a very tame thing after all. 
While waiting for trains time hung heavily on his hands, and 
he learned to play poker as a pastime, but soon discovered 
that playing for small sums made the game much more excit- 
ing. He had been an abstainer from boyhood, and his wife 
would have cried until her eyes were as red as the necktie he 
wore when she first met him at a country picnic, if she had 
detected the smell of liquor on his breath, and the dear girls in 
his Sunday school class would have been shocked if they had 
seen him enter a saloon, but somehow he felt that virtues were 
for simple-minded folks, and vices for men and women of the 
world, who require something exhilerating to make them 
enjoy life that the homely virtues, well enough in common peo- 
ple, could not give. He felt that an occasional drink with the 
boys would do no harm, and the desire for comradeship being 
very strong he disposed of any scruples that may have obtruded 



(iO FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

themselves, and being in Rome did as the Romans did. At 
home he has a choice library of carefully selected books and 
magazines and he and his wife grew nearer and dearer to each 
other as they read and discussed their favorite authors and 
poets. He noticed that very few of his associates read religious, 
scientific, or historical works, and concluded to while away a 
rainy afternoon and get abreast of the times by reading one of 
Ouidas' most sensational stories. He found it very interest- 
ing, not so much because her language was rich and her sen- 
tences beautifully rounded, but because there w^as so much in 
it about women, not unapproachable, prudish, proper women, 
but women who never had any scruples about meeting strangers 
without the formality of an introduction. He laid aside the 
wholesome works he once enjoyed and revelled in the unadul- 
terated nastiness of French and American realists of the baser 
sort. By doing so he surely, but unconsciously, lowered his 
moral standard and cheapened his estimate of the lowly vir- 
tues that distinguish the pure in heart. When a trio of old 
campaigners, who had dallied with him over their social cups, 
suggested that they call on some ladies, not overly nice but 
decidedly chic, he was prepared to go and went with them. 
The river was crossed that rolled between the cleaner world 
with its happy homes and stalwart virtues and the other world 
where vice disrupts and sensuality degrades. He did not see 
the end from the beginning, but simply intended to vary the 
monotony of his life by playing with a temptress and seeing 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 61 

something of the underworld, and as many another fool before 
him had done, rushed, like an unthinking horse, into danger. 
He did not realize that he had made a mistake and over- 
estimated his strength until it was too late. 

Living, as he had so long, a pure life among simple minded 
people who loved God and each other, he did not understand 
the resistless power of wine and women. A man inflamed by 
wine and scourged by passion, is powerless when assailed by a 
designing woman, with sensuous grace and beauty, who has 
caught the gleam of his gold and simulates a passion she does 
not feel to fill her purse. A man, however brave and talented, 
who places himself in the power of an abandoned woman is 
hopelessly involved unless he is willing to defy public opinion 
and flaunt his depravity in its face, no matter how much he 
may loathe himself and the life he leads. He dare not reveal 
his sin to the woman he has so cruelly wronged and the friends 
whose confidence he has abused, and so his life becomes a 
perpetual lie. He dare not neglect to feed the avarice of the 
woman who knows his secret and can expose him at any time. 
Heaven has ordained that tliere shall be two parties to every 
sin against chastity, and no guilty man is safe until death 
removes the participant in his debauch. From city to city, 
and from continent to continent, drift the lost women of the 
world, carrying with them the names and faces of those whose 
passions they have fed, and their conquests are published 
from lip to lip. The fear of exposure makes him a coward. 



(12 FROM TAPS TILL JiEVJJJLLK. 

and cowardice is the prolific mother of hypocrites. With self- 
respect not wholly gone he is ashamed to associate with pure 
women, as he once did, on terms of equality, but cannot, on 
account of those he loves, withdraw from good society alto- 
gether. The desire for companionship remains, -and the spell 
of the woman whose feet take hold on hell is upon him. 
Though he knows that the love that money buys is spurious 
and a general commodity for sale to the highest bidder, he 
feeds upon the unwholesome remnant she offers him in 
exchange for the gold that he filches from his wife and chil- 
dren. He naturally seeks his level and selects for boon com- 
panions those who care little or nothing for the decencies of 
life. 

Arthur is not a happy man. He feels unfit for the com- 
pany of the pure and has too much of the divine in him to be 
satisfied in the society of the impure. He is a citizen of 
neither world, and like a man without a country, is a victim of 
unrest and disappointment. The apples of Sodom were 
beautiful, but they did not satisfy. The desire to love some- 
thing goaded him. The desire to be loved became a con- 
suming passion. Step by step he trod the downward way, and 
evil associations, vicious literature, and strong drink helped to 
stimulate the desires that drove him down. Memory goads 
and conscience whips and self-loathing embitters his life. 
Having lost confidence in himself, his faith in others is shaken. 
In his better moods he hates the double life he is compelled 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



63 



to lead but hasn't the courage to give it up. Men say that he 
ought to abandon his evil ways; and he ought, but the knowl- 
edge that he has fallen and played the hypocrite makes him 
fearful, irresolute and unbelieving. 




(U FROM TAJ'S TILL in^A'KILLE. 



fpl^e l^eunior\. 



When the "boys in bine" broke ranks thirty years ago the 
largest volunteer army ever marshalled in the Western world 
was permanently disbanded. Death has overcome many who 
were victors then and onl}' a remnant remains to enjoy the 
peace their valor won. 

Those who have been mustered out forever were not fault- 
less, but their fame will grow brighter as the world grows older, 
and they will live, in history and song, as long as men are 
moved by heroic deeds and women exalt courage and con- 
stancy. Those who are waiting for their final discharge will 
soon join their fallen comrades and 

" Sleep the sleej) that knows no waking" 
until God orders the universal roll call. 

Wlien flaniin,tj: cannon hurled their shot and shell 
'Gainst Sumpter's walls the stainless flag unfurled 

Above her heights received their leaden rain. 
Our country called. From every nook and dell 
In this broad land the smoke from camp tires curled, 

And marching men caught u[) tlie glad refrain; 
"The star spangled banner in triumj)h shall wave 
O'er the land of the free antl tlie home of the brave," 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. (55 

From peaceful hills and valleys smiling fair, 
She bade us go into the deadly strife 

Where Titans grapjiling stood. 
The war drum's throb borne on the startled air, 
The trumpet's cry and scream of angry fife 

Inspired our martial brotherhood. 



We southward marched. Our conquering columns strong 
Faced serried hosts 'neath Southern sun and star 

With battle flame and lines of glittering steel 
Fought storm and flood, on hurried marches long, 
And raging thirst from cooling draughts afar 

Heard hunger call above the cannon's peal. 



Four years we fought an ever changing fight, 
Sometimes we raised the victor's ringing shout 

Sometimes our bugles called retreat; 
Our watchword this: "Our God will speed the right. 
Put freedom's foes to sure unrallying rout. 

And send them sore defeat." 



Not all who marched with us in sixty-one 

Are marching neath our tattered flags to-day— 

They watch us from afar; 
They wear the deathless crowns their valor won, 
And tread with tireless feet the shining way 

Bdyond the gates ajar. 



(if) FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

No braver men e'er trod the quivering earth 
Than those who met us on ensanguined fields 

'Neath sunny Southland sky; 
Some were plebeian born and some of gentle birth, 
They periled all and lost and now their shields 

In broken fragments lie. 

The men who followed Sherman to the sea, 
And fought with Grant till victory was won. 

Salute the men in gray; 
The broken ranks of Jackson and of Lee, 
Who bravely fought until the fight was done. 

Then cast their arms away. 

Above the stars shall march in coming years 
The blended hosts of our heroic dead, 

Clothed with immortal youth; 
The Prince of Peace shall calm their rising fears, 
Drive thrist away and feed with living bread 

The stalwart sons of truth. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 67 



Salufe "^^oar (J^l^ief, 



SUGGESTED BY THE DEATH OF W. B. WYLIE. 



Salute your chief ! Bend low each youthful head, 

While passes by your loved but fallen chief. 
He ruled you long, but with the conquered dead 

Now calmly sleeps despite your poignant grief. 
No war drum's throb leads on his funeral train, 

No scream of fife cleaves through the air. 
To join, with trumpet cries, in martial strain, 

No flags enshroud his stalwart form so fair. 

Salute ypur chief ! Bend low each youthful head. 

He, helpless now, moves with the cortege on, 
To the bleak house where rest the waiting dead. 

And darkness broods until the breaking dawn; 
The gloom dispelling dawn, that hunts the graves 

Where dead men wait the coming of their King, 
Who slays in love, and conquers whom he saves. 

Then calls them forth with angel's trumpet ring. 

Salute your chief 1 Bend low each youthful head. 
And mourn for him who will not come again 



G8 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

And lead your blended ranks, as once he led, 
Through fields of light that dot a sombre ])lain; 

Help scale the heights where knowledge sways 
And wisdom's floods in ceaseless torrents pour, 

Where tempters never lure from learning's ways, 
And myriad minds, enriched, unfettered, soar. 

Salute your chief I Bend low each youthful head, 

And weep for him, who, forceful, firm and kind, 
Loved well the youth his broader knowledge fed, 

Revealing truths they, searching, could not find. 
You felt no tyrant's harsh, unreasoning sway. 

But ever saw the hand, outstretched in love, 
That helped you gain, each swiftly passing day, 

A greater good — a thought gleam from abo\e. 

Salute your chief ! Bend low each youthful head 

To him who passes on, and out, forevermore. 
And soon will lie with the unanswering dead 

Whose feet do never touch this mortal shore. 
Xo war drum's throb leads on his funeral train, 

No scream of fife cleaves through the air, 
To join, with trumpet cries, in martial strain; 

No flags enshroud his stalwart form so fair, 
But strong men sob and women gently weep. 

While childhood wails its loving, last good-bye, 
And o'er the form love could not always keep 

Tlie children's tear laved wreaths caressing lie. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 69 



^l7G poodle and \\}q poodle. 



AN EPISODE IN CHARLIE S CHECKERED LIFE. 



See sweet Mary's smitten noodle, 
Kneeling at her slippered feet, 

See her jealous, whiskered poodle, 
Fiercely tear his tender meat. 

.See sweet Mary's weeping noodle, 
Sprawl upon the parlor floor, 

See the shaggy, savage poodle, 

Rend the stunning clothes he wore. 

See sweet Mary's vanquished noodle. 
Standing by the mantel tall. 

And her vicious, warlike poodle. 
Crouching low beside the wall. 

See sweet Mary's blushing noodle, 
Moving backwards to the door. 

While the noodle-eating jioodle, 
Smacks his lips and calls for more. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

See sweet Mary's wounded noodle, 
Lying on his troubled face, 

Hear him swear at Mary's poodle, 
And the scars he can't efface. 

See sweet Mary hug the poodle. 
That has fed on noodle meat, 

While she laughs about the noodle, 
And his trousers incomplete. 



Love sick noodles, watch the poodles, 
If you want to rise complete, 

For the poodles hate the noodles, 
When thev kneel at Mary's feet. 




FROM TAPS TILL IlEVFALLi:. 



Declarafior^ of principles. 



"In introducing my machines", says a Texas sewing machine 
agent, " to an ignorant and unthinking, but intelligent and dis- 
criminating public, I beg the privilege of saying: 

"They are the best, and will remain so, until I arrange to 
handle an entirely new line. I have sold every reputable and 
disreputable machine introduced into Texas, in the last decade, 
and have contributed to the happiness of my customers by 
always recommending every machine sold as unapproachable 
in merit and strictly first-class in every particular. 

"By buying in large quantities and never paying for the 
goods, I am enabled to offer exceptional inducements to buy- 
ers, and being legally irresponsible and absolutely conscience- 
less, I cheerfully warrant every machine I sell for any length 
of time the customer may desire. 

"My opinions are fixed, but flexible; firm, but varying. I 
recognize and comment with great earnestness on the enor- 
mities of the liquor trafific when in the society of total ab- 
stainers and prohibitionists and insist that State and National 
prohibition is necessary to sustain the life of the republic, 
perpetuate its institutions, and promote the peace and pros- 
perity of its sons and daughters. We are in imminent, deadly 



FliOM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



peril, and the saloon must go. However, I can not refrain 
from expressing my profound sympathy for all saloonists who 
are contending with more than Spartan courage against the 
merciless and destructive hosts of temperance and fanati- 
cism in defense of personal liberties and constitutional rights. 
I am ready and willing to aid them in their heroic struggles. 

"As occasion demands I identify myself with the Baptist, 
Methodist, Presbyterian or Christian church, and affiliate, if 
necessary, with the Catholic, Episcopal and independent and 
dissenting religious bodies. Although I unequivocally en- 
dorse the principles of these organizations, I am an atheist, 
infidel, agnostic and free thinker. 

"I belive in and practice monogamy, but advocate polyga 
my within certain geographical limits. 

"While I recognize the right of the government to punish 
crimes against society and suppress lawlessness by prohibiting 
and punishing whatever is vicious and hurtful, though it may 
occur under the sanction and in the name of religion, I hold 
that every man has a right, as a religionist, to do as he pleases, 
and that no power has a right to interfere with him in the 
exercise of his God given rights. 

" Although I am a Democrat, one of the unwashed, unterri- 
fied kind, unreconstructed and unrcconstructible, for reasons 
satisfactory to myself, I vote with the Republican party and 
endorse its principles. While I do this I am in perfect accord 
with the Mugwumps and Populists. I believe in a single and 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

double money standard and the single tax theory as advocated 
by Henry George. 

"I do not hesitate to invoke the wrath of God upon the migra- 
tory and irrepressible Jews, whose ancestors made the greatest 
tragedy, mentioned in sacred or profane history, possible. 
They are aliens who amass colossal fortunes by questionable 
methods. They know that suckers are born every minute and 
deceive the people, with whom they affiliate, for gain. They 
live in luxury, without labor, while those whose hard earned 
money they acquire by their subtle arts are reduced to poverty; 
but my soul revolts at the causeless and malignant persecution 
of these wards of the Almighty, who are peaceable men and 
good citizens, and have done so much, in their quiet and unsel- 
fish way, to promote the intellectual, moral, and commercial, 
interests of America and the world. 

"Like Herr Most, I am an anarchist, but believe in corpora- 
tions, combines, and trust. I believe that capitalists should be 
protected in the ownership and control of their property, but 
am a communist pure and simple, 

"I am for the Union and its unquestioned supremacy over 
the States and Territories composing it, but believe that the 
doctrine of States Rights as enunciated by Calhoun and others 
was born in heaven. While I am willing to die for the Union, 
right or wrong, I am equally willing to imperil my life and 
property in defense of the State against the aggressions and 
exactions of the national government. 



74 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

"I believe this should be a government of the whites, by the 
whites, and for the whites, although I supported with my voice 
and vote the advocates of the Force Bill. The negro, whether 
pure or hybrid, is not entitled to the rights and privileges of 
citizenship. He is an exotic and should be transplanted. He 
is a cancerous growth on the body politic, a conglomerate of 
ignorance and depravity, and is unfit to exercise the functions 
of a citizen; but is chaste, temperate, and industrious, and, as 
a useful member of society, should be granted and protected 
in the exercise of all the rights the constitution guarantees him. 

"I believe in capital punishment and that the death penalty 
should be abolished. 

"I believe that secret societies are born in councils infernal. 
They are a standing menace to the church, the state, and the 
home, but I have shown my approval of them by joining every 
one across whose mysterious portals I have been permitted to 
go, and around whose sacred altars I have touched elbows and 
crossed palms with the purest and best of men. 

"I believe that women, though superior, are unequal to men, 
whether considered as animals that perish, or beings instinct 
with immortal life. 

"Although I consider their clamor for rights and privileges 
hitherto ungranted, as baseless, vulgar, and arbitrary, I am 
in favor of enfranchising them and giving them everything 
they can, as equals with men, rightfully insist upon. The 
wrongs of ages ought to be righted. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 75 

"Woman is the savior and destroyer of our race. She exalts 
and casts down, purifies and corrupts, and leads to loftier 
heights and lures to lower depths, than any other creature God 
has made. 

"My mother-in-law, who never tires of telling me how many 
wise and wealthy men coveted the prize I drew and how 
unworthy I am of the treasure she gave me, is a woman. My 
landlady, who so delicately compliments her prompt-paying 
tenants while reminding me that my rent is overdue, and so 
patiently details the story of her daily and hourly needs, is a 
woman. My cook, who sometimes passes me on the street 
without dunning me and protests that I am a " mighty good 
feller but a pore pervider," is a woman. In fact, all of my 
intimate female relatives and friends are women, and, knowing 
them as I do, I will cheerfully endure martyrdom for their 
sake. 

"Women are peerless in every way and have lifted us 
from the lowest depths of barbarism to the highest heights 
of civilization. They are the purest and sweetest things 
divinity every fashioned, but are evangels of discord whose 
venomtipped tongues pierce like damascus blades, and are 
chronic disturbers of the public peace. Their malicious 
loquacity and repellant angularities of temper and disposition 
make this world of ours, that, but for them, would be resonant 
with song and the abode of unchanging peace, a veritable 
babel, a perpetual battlefield. 



76 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

"I know their mental poverty and moral incompleteness 
and proclaim their physical inferiority with absolute fearless- 
ness. While I love women I love truth better. I sprang from 
a chivalrous and unfearing line and resent their assumptions 
of equality with undisguised contempt, as every self-respect- 
ing man is bound to do. 

"Women, despite the fierceness of their gentle natures and 
their changeless but variable dispositions, are excellent judges 
of machines, when they buy of me and accept without ques- 
tioning the marvelous tales I tell. If one is captivated by 
some other slick tongued deceiver and induced to buy some- 
thing inferior at a fancy price, she simply exhibits the womanly 
weakness that has precipitated mental ruin and financial dis- 
aster upon so many confiding and indulgent fathers, husbands 
and sweethearts, and should be pinioned aloft as an awful 
example, upon which others can look and be saved. 

"I have endeavored to state clearly and simply the views I 
entertain on important subjects, so that the public, I delight 
to serve, may know that I am made of sterling stuff and can 
be depended on in an emergency. 

"Those who know me best will testify that I have never 
abandoned a friend as long as he could be used to advance my 
interests or I could make a dollar out of him." 

******* 
In the foregoing declaration of principles I have endeav- 
ored to collect into one article the various statements made 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 77 

by the Texas agent under different circumstances and among 
different kinds of people. I need not add tiiat, while he is 
recognized as the best all-round liar in his section, he is not a 
-bright particular star in the local Four Hundred, and will soon 
be compelled to leave for some other field of operation, where, 
by being all things to all men and on all sides of all questions, 
he can'add something to his depleted treasury. 



rpl7G Modern I^uIg. 

Hear you the rule our Teacher gave of old, 

Say those who preach a gospel strange but true, 
You earnest men, who teach and toil for gold, 

You taskless ones, who neither think nor do; 
His golden rule, through age on age, shall stand. 

And millions know its silent, forceful sway, 
The pure and wise of every race and land 

Shall own its power till dawns no earthly day. 

Hear you the rule of a more modern sage. 

Say those who scorn the Man of Galilee, 
His rule won't work in this self-seeking age, 

When faith lies dead and truth does error flee; 
Go vaunt your own with subtle, truthless tongue. 

And hold, where blessings flow, your failing cup, 
Spare not the old, ensnare the guileless young, 

" Do other men or they will do you up." 



78 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



fpl7G Mofl]Gr's ©Answer. 



Two little eyes that laugh alway, 
Two little lips that pout for me; 

Two little feet that sometimes stray, 
Two little hands that restless be, 

And is that all? 

Two little eyes are closed to-day, 
Two little lips no speech allow; 

Two little feet find rest from play. 
Two little hands are folded now. 

And is that all? 

Two little eyes shall see the King, 
Two little lips His praises sing; 

Two little feet His errands run, 
Two little hands caress the Son— 

And is that all? 

Two little eyes shall watch for me. 
Two little lips shout, "Welcome Home;" 

Two little feet my guides shall be, 

Two little hands shall clasp my own — 

And that is all 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 79 



Marf^i'dom and Monuments. 



The world sometimes crucifies its benefactors and atones 
for its ingratitude by erecting colossal monuments to com- 
memorate their virtues, while its historians and poets embalm 
their glorious deeds in history and song after they have passed 
beyond the reach of praise or blame. Somehow, when his 
career is ended and his protesting voice is hushed, it recog- 
nizes divinity in the man who dares to live in advance of his 
generation and endure persecution for humanity's sake, 
although it hates and persecutes him for arraying himself 
against its cherished theories and traditions. The martyrs of 
one age are the demi-gods of the next, and the crown of mar- 
tyrdom presages a crown of glory. 

If men ever learn that God loves those who have intelligent 
convictions and the courage to express them, and that honest 
thinkers and doers are the saviors of the race, persecution will 
cease and the cross and guillotine be banished from the earth. 

The man who knows and believes, and knowing and believ- 
ing, does something to disturb conditions that are created and 
fostered by ignorance and prejudice, is made of sterling stuff 
and deserves honorable recognition by thoughtful and consid- 



80 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

erate people. Every man should entertain and manifest a 
reasonable regard for public opinion, but it is argus-eyed and 
hydra-headed, despotic and unreasoning, imperious and fickle, 
and no man can captivate its fancy or comply with its require- 
ments continuously without dishonoring his sense of right and 
justice and adapting himself, without protest, to his environ- 
ments. No trimmer can expect posthumus fame, for he who 
moulds his opinions and shapes his life to harmonize with 
public opinion, whether it be right or wrong, is devoid of prin- 
ciple and as variable as the wind. If he changes his views 
every time he changes his location, without adequate cause, 
he is destitute of all the characteristics of real manhood and 
utterly unreliable in any of the emergencies of life and 
"weighed and found wanting" will be inscribed upon his 
monument, if he has one, when he has left the world he was 
too ignoble to serve. He may occasionally be wrong in his 
conclusions, and sometimes harsh and ungenerous in his judg- 
ments, but the man who lives for others and acts upon his con- 
victions at the peril of personal popularity and with the assur- 
ance that he will incur social ostracism and financial disaster 
has the distinguishing merits of honesty and courage, and 
should be regarded by friend and foe alike, as not faultless, 
but "every inch a man." 

Beautiful in its simplicity is the comment of Joaquin Miller 
on the forty-niners, the daring men who, searching for gold, 
turned their faces toward the sunset to meet death on the 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



81 



desert, or in the mines, or to sleep " on the mountain tops 
nearer the gates of God" their eternal sleep: 

"They were rough, maybe, but they did their level best." 
He who loves his fellews, and in the fear of God does his 
level best, is cast in a heroic mould, and will rest in peace, 
whether after "life's fitful fever," he sleeps with princes in 
hallowed ground, or with paupers in a potter's field. 



82 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



Mamie. 



Our Mamie is singing night and day 
Of lovers present, and lovers away, 

And sweethearts lea' and true; 
Well, hills rejoice and rivers sing, 
And angel choirs make Heaven ring. 

With anthems old and new. 

Our Mamie is playing night and day, 
The "devil's dance" and "pilgrims gray," 

And marches and galops, too; 
Well, harpers are harping above the stars. 
While oceans swell despite the bars 

That fetter their waters blue. 

Our Mamie is merry night and day, 
And seldom thinks to weep or pray, 

Or fathom the depths of life; 
Well, waves are dancing on every sea. 
And stars are twinkling o'er every lea. 

Unthinking of woe or strife. 

Our Mamie is loving, night and day, 
Her friends and sweethearts, grave and gay, 
And loves with all her might; 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

Well, love is older than Adam's race, 
And those who love shall see God's face, 
In a world without a night. 



The rivers sing as they onward flow 
The praises of one who loves men so, 

He lifts their feet with song; 
The mighty surge of the fettered deep. 
Where death abides and tempests sweep. 

Proclaims him great and strong. 

The harpers strike their harps of gold, 
To One whose love can not be told. 

That walked with fallen men; 
The waves will dance on every sea. 
And stars will twinkle o'er every lea, 

Till He shall come again. 

Love sways alone the cloudless world. 
Where saints salute her flag unfurled. 

And sing the old, old song; 
Whose sons shall come from many lands, 
To rule, with bright and shining bands. 

The conquered hosts of wrong. 



84 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



(Slosie 



IN MEMORIAM, 



I find among my pictures this drear day, 

The shadow of a friend now far away, 

Who walked in peace, if arching skies were bright, 

Or when the world was veiled from human sight; 

No limner's art can trace her matchless grace. 

Nor catch the radiance of her sunny face, 

It can not show, what life alone revealed. 

Nor open tuneful lips that death has sealed. 

Beyond the point where counter currents meet. 
She safely passed on sure, unfaltering feet. 
And smiling moved, despite all mocking fate. 
From girlhood's dreams to woman's proud estate; 
Her slender hands, that fed the hungry poor, 
Had often knocked at sorrow's humble door. 
And lingered long in loving, fond caress, 
Upon a mother's head to soothe and bless. 
What limner's art is helpless to portray, 
Her hands had wrought each passing day. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 85 

The light of truth shone in the earnest eyes 
That saw, beside her path, no tempter's prize, 
To lure her from the narrow, upward way, 
That ends at last in an eternal day ; 
She saw the good, enshrined in fallen man, 
That upward tends since Adam's race began, 
On far off hills beheld a shining light. 
To guide each way-worn traveler aright; 
No limner's art can show the stainless soul, 
That showed despairmg men a heavenly goal. 

She sung no songs devoid of hope or cheer. 

Breathed out no sad refrain of doubt or fear. 

Her silvern voice brought gladness in the home. 

And called in luring tones to all aroam; 

Brave, soothing words, instinct with faith and love, 

Fell from her lips like raindrops from above. 

And aching hearts forgot their secret pain. 

And darkened souls felt light and warmth again. 

No limner's art can show the soul aglow, 

That drove from jfailing hearts despair and woe. 

She treads no more the way of mortal life, 

But safe forever from its heat and strife. 

Will go no more on swift, untiring feet, 

To joyless homes where want and failure meet; 

Nor help the waifs upon a barren plain. 

The outcast poor, who thread their way in pain. 

Nor sing of love, that love may come again. 



86 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

Nor lift, with song, the feet of weary men. 
Can limner's art portray the mystic power, 
That works and wins though tempests lower? 

We wait outside a world that looms afar, 

She calls to us, through gates of pearl ajar, 

To come to her upon the higher height, 

That lifts its head in pure, unfailing light; 

While harpers strike their answering harps of gold. 

She sings a song forever new, yet old. 

Of changeless love, whose banner Christ unfurled 

Above the ramparts of a fallen world. 

Can limner's art the hope of triumph trace, 

In speaking lines upon a pictured face. 




FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 87. 



(J^l7GirlG^ and buella Make Op. 



Luella dropped the poodle and, springing to her feet, stood 
with eyes distended and mouth wide open, while Charlie an- 
nounced his determination to join the Senators and play with 
them against the Chickadaws of Ouinceville. Although she 
seemed wary and indifferent at times, she loved him with a 
tenderness and tenacity that human language can not describe. 
They had met the preceding week and were fast friends from 
the beginning, even before their engagement which quickly 
followed their first meeting. Charlie had met several girls in 
his short, eventful life and had some doubts about the grip 
Luella's affections had on him, and, in order to test the matter 
satisfactorily, paved the way for his dramatic declaration by 
reciting 'numerous harrowing tales of which the dead and 
mangled heroes of the gridiron were the subjects. 

One of his most intimate friends, a splendid stripling, had 
left the field minus an eye and with a severed finger in his 
pocket. Another fine fellow had gone home on a dray carry- 
ing his broken leg with him. Still another, who was overproud 
of his superb ivories, had left most of them in the mud where 
the decisive struggle took place in a match game and lumber- 
ing Lowman's mammoth foot hit his mouth instead of the ball. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

And Felix Flippen, his bosom friend and boon companion, 
with elongated neck and colossal feet, had broken his collar 
bone and died when a misdirected kick by a companion had 
struck him in the middle, bringing his feet up and his head 
down. 

Luella admired his courage, but was shocked by his decision. 
His thrilling description of the dangers that followed the play- 
ers as closely as a jealous woman trails her faithless lover, 
though rivers roll between, had a telling effect, and when he 
told her, calmly and deliberately, that he intended to enlist 
and serve until the foot ball war was over, unless death or 
disability met him on the gory field, she reeled like a ship at 
sea when the storm king troubles the waste of waters, and, with 
a piercing scream, fell upon his neck and wept bitterly, while 
the pug looked the astonishment it could not express. 

"Oh, Charlie," she cried, while her tears rolled in torrents 
dawn his unbent back and soaked the stiffiless out of his 
E. &W. collar, "my life; do not j.oin that horrid team. Do 
not defy death on his own territory. You are everything to 
rne — the only man I ever loved, and I will not have it so. You 
know I love you better than anything on earth; better even 
than Jacques, the finest imported pug in America. Listen to 
me. Do not enlist; stop this side of the danger line; let the 
awful butchery go on, if it must, but remember the dreadful 
fate of Lady Macbeth and do not stain your hands with inno- 
cent blood or enrich the earth with yours, Persist in your 



• FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 89 

course and my life is hopelessly wrecked. I shall go into 
hysterics and my father will call in that ghoulish old doctor 
who always collects his bills in advance when he practices his 
killing art in our family. Oh, Charlie, fairest and bravest 
among men, hear my prayer and answer it now. Christmas is 
almost here and I want to save my money to buy, for you, a 
pair of embroidered slippers and a collar button. For your 
sobbing half-crazed Luella's sake let the whole beastly business 
alone." 

"Luella, you rave like a weakling and not like one who 
expects to rest for life in the brawny arms of a man whose 
courage is only equaled by his speed and muscle. I have 
spoken and my word is law. The unbreakable laws of the 
Medes and Persians are as plaster paris compared with my 
decisions. Danger tempts me as wine tempts the tippler, and 
I can laugh at death as the child laughs at the scorpion that 
stings it. I will join the Senators though your pin money 
goes to the miserly old doctor. Yes, though your heart break 
and your tears fall like summer rain. I love you much, but I 
love foot ball more." 

Luella unwound her arms, shut up her fountain of tears and 
replied angrily, while scorn turned up the corner of one rosy 
lip: "Your insults are more than I can bear. Go hence, a 
stranger, and never stand in my presence again. You are a 
heartless man, a soulless monstrosity, incarnated for some 
inscrutable purpose that God may understand if he ever thinks 



90 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

about disagreeable things. My love has turned to hate and I 
see you now, as mamma said I would see you some day, a cold, 
self-willed, cruel man. Go," she exclaimed, flinging the glitter- 
ing diamond ring, that he had traded his bicycle for and placed 
on her finger a few minutes before, contemptuously at his feet, 
"and get glory by shedding blood if you will, but never profane 
my name by letting it linger on your unhallowed lips again." 
Then hugging the pug tightly to her throbbing bosom, Luella 
moved proudly away and left Charlie wondering what on earth 
would happen next. 

* # * * * *- * * * *t * 

The financial manager of the Senators saluted Charlie and 
and called for a contribution from him for current expenses as 
a condition preceding membership. Charlie grasped convul- 
sively at the silver dollar in his pocket and thought the situa- 
tion over. His laundry was in the hands of a man who would 
keep it until the bill was paid, and he would not have another 
dollar until his mother's monthly boarder settled her account. 
So rather than wear soiled linen a fortnight, he declined to 
contribute and did not become a Senator. 

He hunted Luella aud falling upon his knees begged for mercy. 
He could not be a player without money, but he could be a 
lover and get embroidered slippers and a collar button, too. 
He vainly attempted to grasp her elusive hand and cried 
piteously: "Forgive me, dearest; throw away the pug and take 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 91 

me to your arms again. I have sinned but I have suffered, and, 
proud as I am, I beg for forgiveness. I did not know what I 
was doing. I am cast in an heroic mould and the blood of 
mighty warriors courses through my veins. The thirst for 
glory and adventure was in me and I would have startled the 
world by fearless deeds but for your moving appeals. I 
have flung ambition to the winds, for your sake, and here I am, 
at your feet, where I will stay until I am forgiven. Luella, 
hold me in your arms again and press your unpainted lips to 
mine like you did before we quarreled — before I drove you to 
madness by my stinging words. Call me your own precious 
Charlie again and I will be as happy as you are beautiful." 

Luella was as calm as an uptown ofiice when the proprietor 
steps in unexpectedly, and a look of triumph rested on her face. 
She cast the pug aside, rose to her feet and bade Charlie 
unbend his knees and stand face to face with her. The calm, 
triumphant look passed away and a smile of ineffable sweet- 
nest overspread her countenance, while love danced, in the 
depths of her big, blue eyes. The displaced pug was discon- 
certed, but rnade no demonstrations of joy or sorrow. He was 
crestfallen, sad and thoughtful, but being very young and 
unacquainted with the whims of American girls, could not 
understand. The moon was wiser. It saw what was coming 
and stepped behind a cloud, while all nature, sympathizing with 
lovers reconciled, fell asleep till Charlie and Luella finished 
making up. 



92 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



Gfl79l and il^G eAlli|afor. 



Tiny, mirthful, star-eyed Ethel played beside the noisome marsh, 

Watches the flowers clamber upward, heard the frog's weird song so harsh; 

Though her dainty head was hatless, and her small white feet were bare. 

Sweetest songs were outward flowing like her soft, dishevelled hair. 

She had southward gone, with papa, from the hills of old Kentuck, 

And was having fun a plenty, and the very best of luck. 

Never thinking as she scampered freely, madly, here and there, 

Of the home she left behind her and the happy times that were. 

Saw no fearful fate impending, heard no danger signal's call, 

But unknowing, and unthinking, went, unwitting, to her fall. 

All unseen an alligator slyly winked, and thus did say: 
"I will fill my empty stomach with Kentucky girl to-day. 
She, so very young and tender, will be easy to digest. 
And to wisely snare and get her I will do my level best; 
The Kentucky girls are wary and are very hard to fool. 
And I'll never, never, eat one, if I'm not discreet and cool; 
Oh, if she were not so restless, so disposed to skip and play, 
I could quickly catch and eat her and enjoy myself to-day. 

"Mercy, how she taunts and tempts me, with her flesh so gleaming white. 
She will make a toothsome dessert or a Sunday supper light; 
Now she nimbly frisks and frolics close beside the noisome marsh, 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 93 

Where the flowers clamber upward and the frog's weird song is harsh, 
And comes closer, closer, closer, as her new born fears depart. 
Bringing joy and expectation to my wildly throbbing heart. 
If she stoops to pluck a flower on the marsh's deadly brink, 
I can surely, safely house her, in my vacuum, I think. 

I have fed on common niggers, with protesting cries and tears, 

And insipid, tanned Floridians a score or more of years, 

I need a change of diet, something wholesome, fresh, and young. 

To cure my indigestion and restore my nerves unstrung; 

I see the little rambler swiftly heading down this way. 

To pluck an opening flower, now fragrant, bright and gay, 

I'll shut my eyes and lie inert, just like a log decayed. 

And soon will hide, from human sight, a trusting girl betrayed; 

I'll never have a finer meal — have never had before, 

Than one, I think, I'm going to have in twenty seconds more." 



She stoops beside the marsh's brink, unmoved by doubts or fears, 
He opens wide his monstrous mouth and — Ethel disappears. 



94 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



Before and ©Affer. 



BEFORE THE BURIAL. 



How Still he lies; how calm his massive brow. 
It's old-time shadows all have passed away, 
And peace is resting in its furrows deep; 
He rests, I know, from care and sorrow now, 
Where doubt ne'er comes and love ne'er goes astray, 
Yet, knowing all, I cry aloud and weep. 

I saw the shadows gathering on his brow. 
While he, so patient, wrought and toiled tor me. 
From dawn 'till noon, from noon 'till eventide, 
But kissed them not away. They haunt me now, 
While he, unknowing lies, and I can see 
The peace an angel brought on him abide. 

I press, with mine, the pale, unanswering, lips 
That were unsought when red with lusty life. 
And bathe with tears his white, untroubled, face; 
He does not heed, though trembling finger tips 
Press sunken cheeks with death's own pallor rife, 
And touch the lines my tears cannot efface. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 95 

God help him see my loneliness and woe, 
Who bore, unhelped by me, life's crushing ills, 
While I, uncaring, trod a thornless way; 
God hear my prayer that he may surely know 
How memory goads and conscience never stills, 
For, if he knows, he will forgive to-day. 

If, by God's grace, I get another man 
To bear for me the ills or human life 
And blaze a way for my uncertain feet; 
My love, that by the dead began. 
Will make of me a wise, indulgent, wife, 
Till death and I in final combat meet. 



ONE WEEK LATER. 

The dead heard not, a love-lorn bumpkin did. 
He watched her bend above a shrouded form. 
With piercing cries and swiftly falling tears; 
And told her soon that purest love lay hid 
In his heart's depths, unfettered, strong, and warm. 
That should be her's adown the coming years. 



TWO WEEKS LATER. 

Don't plead my vows you silly, brazen fool, 
And fret the bonds that fetter you for life. 
While I move on my own, unquestioned way; 



96 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

Don't talk of love that wearied and grew cool, 
Then passed away. Serve me, your queenly wife, 
Whom wiser men obeyed before your day. 



This lesson learn, oh, bumpkins, young and old, 
The greed of power is mightier than love. 
In loveless wives, who loudly wail and weep 
Above the wronged their arms did once enfold; 
Their tears flow not from healing springs above, 
But from the nether springs, impure and deep. 




FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 97 



)ome pamous 09oman §uffra|isfs. 



Those who believe in universal suffrage need not be ashamed 
to advocate principles that are unpopular in many sections of 
our country. They may be regarded as dreamers and denounced 
as fanatics, but their position is impregnable and their argu- 
ments unanswerable. The truths they hold are self-evident 
and will some day be universally accepted by thoughtful and 
justice-loving people. Many of the leaders of thought in 
England and America have insisted that in a republic woman 
suffrage is not only inevitable but necessary and desirable. To 
encourage suffragists who endure contempt for conscience 
sake and contend with unfailing courage against fearful odds 
I mention a few men and women, of national reputation or 
world-wide fame, who have advocated or do advocate suffrage 
for women. Those whose names are given have been distin- 
guished as soldiers, statesmen, lecturers, writers, philosophers 
or philanthropists. The list is necessarily incomplete, The 
majority on our roll of honor are christians living, or christians 
dead, worthy disciples of the Galilean commoner and emanci- 
pator. 



98 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

Abraham Lincoln, Wendell Phillips, Gen. Neal Dow, Bishop 
Simpson, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry W.' Longfellow, 
John G. Whittier, Henry Wilson, William H. Seward, Chief 
Justice Chase, Benjamin F. Wade, Dr. Wm. T. Harris, Joseph 
Cook, Senator Hoar, Senator Blair, Dr. R. S. Storrs, T. DeWitt 
Talmage, John Stuart Mill, Bishop H. C. Potter, Bishop 
Spaulding, T. W. Higginson, Charles Kingsley, Herbert Spen- 
cer, Prof. Huxley, James Freeman Clark, Bishop Gilbert 
Haven, W. E. Gladstone, Charles Sumner, Wm. Lloyd Garri- 
son, Dr. Blackwell, ex-Governor Warren, Hon. Carroll D. 
Wright, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Fred Douglass, Theodore Til- 
ton, Samuel G. Howe, Rutherford B. Hayes. Gov. Banks, Gov. 
Boutwell, Gov. Claflin, Gov. Washburn, Gov. Talbot, Gov. 
Ames, Gov. Long, Senator Henry L. Dawes, John M. Forbes, 
Rev. Robert Collyer, Bishop Bowman, Rev. Phillips Brooks, 
Rev. A. J. Gordon, George William Curtis. Amanda Way, 
Florence Nightingale, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Frances Power 
Cobbe, Zerelda G. Wallace (mother of Ben Hurr), Elizabeth 
Stuart Phelps Ward, Louisa A. Alcott, Lydia Maria Childs, 
Harriet Martineau, Mrs. James, Elizabeth Barrett Brooming, 
Frances E. Willard, Mrs. A. J. Gordon, Alice Stone Blackwell, 
Mrs. Charles, (author of "The Schonburg Cotta Family,") Mar- 
garet Fuller, Frances D. Gage, Lucretia Mott, Julia Ward 
Howe, Lady Somerset, J. Ellen Foster, Rev. Anna Shaw, 
Mary A. Livermore, Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stan- 
ton, Helen Gougar, Josephine K. Henry, Laura B. Clay, Clara 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 99 

Barton, Abbie W. May, Lucy Stone, Mary F. Eastman, Mary 
Clemmer, Victoria C Woodhull, Harriett Prescott Spofford, 
and Mrs. Susan S. Fessenden. The daughters of John D. 
Rockafeller, the multi-millionaire, are among the young suf- 
ragists of New Yoric. 

Wise men neither overestimate their strength nor underesti- 
mate the strength of their. enemies. The universal suffragists 
know that they have character, intelligence and respectability, 
but they want numbers, and are trying to secure them. A 
minority, however select it may be, can not cope with a majority 
when vital issues are determined by the votes of the people. 
Multitudes ha^^e joined their ranks, and their growth in num- 
bers and influence since the war has been phenomenal, but 
they need more converts, and the work of proselyting goes 
steadily on. 

Alice Stone Blackwell, in a recent article says: "Sixty years 
ago women could not vote anywhere. In 1845 Kentucky gave 
school suffrage to widows. In 1861 Kansas gave it to all 
women. In 1869 England gave municipal suffrage to single 
women and widows, and Wyoming gave full suffrage to all 
women. School suffrage was granted in 1875 by Michigan 
and Minnesota, m 1876 by Colorado, in 1878 by New Hamp- 
shire and Oregon, in 1879 by Massachusetts, in 1880 by New 
York and Vermont. In 1881 municipal suffrage was granted 
to the single women and widows of Scotland. Nebraska 
granted school suffrage in 1883, and Wisconsin in 1885. In 



iri 



100 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



1886 school suffrage was given in Washington, and municipal 
suffrage to single women and widows in Ontario and New 
Brunswick. In 1887 municipal suffrage was extended to all 
women in Kansas, and school suffrage in North and South 
Dakota, Montana, Arizona and New Jersey. In 1891 school 
suffrage was granted in Illinois. In 1892 municipal suffrage 
was extended to single women and widows in the Province 
of Quebec. In 1893 school suffrage was granted in Connecti- 
cut, and full suffrage in Colorado and New Zealand. In 1894 
school suffrage was granted in Ohio, a limited municipal suf- 
frage in Iowa, and parish and district suffrage in England to 
women, both married and single. In 1895 f'-ill suffrage has 
been extended in South Australia to women, both married 
and single. The world is evidently moving in the direction of 
equal rights for women. It is better to help draw the car of 
progress than to be dragged ignominiously at its wheels." 

Their most uncompromising enemies are saloon keepers, but 
they encounter opposition from all kinds of people. A Kentucky 
Doctor of Divinity says: "The masses, and the classes, and the 
asses, are against the preachers." It can be said, truthfully, that 
these diverse fragments of society, with occasional exceptions, 
are in many States a unit in opposition to the new evangels, 
who proclaim the gospel of equality and plead for the enfran- 
chisement of women. I cheerfully admit, without argument, 
that millions of the wisest and best people in the United 
States are opposed to giving the ballot to women. They are 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 101 

earnest, honest and conscientious, and are as clearly entitled 
to their opinions as are those who entertain contrary views. 
Equal suffragists can not consistently claim infallibility or a 
monopoly of truth. Fallible should be written across the 
creeds of Christendom, the political platforms that men build,- 
and the published utterances of theorists, philosophers and 
historians, until human imperfections pass away and the undis- 
puted reign of the perfect man is ushered in, for behind 
every creed, platform, philosophy, history, and opinion is a 
biased or imperfect man or a combination of biased or imper- 
fect men. They should patiently appeal to the sense of 
justice in fair-minded men and women and convince the judg- 
ments of doubting Thomases and inquiring unbelievers by 
marshalling facts and disclosing principles that command 
assent. God reigns. If they are right they will succeed; if 
they are wrong they will fail. 

When John Wesley called slavery the sum of all villainies 
and Wm. Lloyd Garrison pronounced it a league with death 
and a covenant with hell, thousands of christians whose ability 
and piety could not be questioned rallied to its defense and 
quoted texts of scripture to show that God sanctioned it. So, 
now, when modern iconoclasts declare the subjection of women 
to be unjust, ungenerous and unchristian those who magnify 
the letter and minify the spirit of the law invoke Moses and 
Paul to prove that woman is man's subject and not his equal. 
Those who assaulted slavery and led the crusade against it. 



102 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



were regarded as agitators, fanatics and disturbers of the pub- 
lic peace, not only in the slave States but in every part of the 
Union. History repeats itself, and those who advocate the 
cause of women now, as Phillips and Garrison championed the 
cause of the enslaved then, are sowing to the wind and will 
reap the whirlwind of popular indignation. The public will 
regard them as enemies of social order and good government, 
and ease-loving people, who love peace better than they love 
principle, will denounce them as meddling busybodies or pes- 
tilent fellows. 

Phillips and Garrison lived long enough to hear shackles 
falling from a fettered race, and many of those who are 
despised and rejected now, like their elder brother, who stood 
for the weak against the strong, will live to hear the trium- 
phant songs of an emancipated sex. Until wrong is driven 
from the throne that it has usurped, and right ascends it, they 
expect opposition from the church and the saloon, society and 
the rabble, the good and the bad, but they are neither intimi- 
dated nor discouraged. They believe in their cause. They 
have faith in themselves and their God, and are not standing 
like plumed knights with lances at rest waiting for the hosts 
of oppression to appear, but are marching to meet them and 
offer battle. Many of their foemen are their equals in courage 
and constancy, their peers in intelligence, kindness and morals, 
but many of them are cowardly and inconstant, ignorant, cruel 
and immoral. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 103 

It is reasonably certain that the heroes of the chr'stian faith, 
from Abraham to Jesus, wore long hair. There are causes 
which compel some women to cut off the flowing tresses that 
add so much to their physical beauty, nevertheless there are 
men unable to state a proposition or recognize an argument, 
who imagine that they are prodigiously funny when they talk 
facetiously about long-haired men and short-haired women, 
and laugh immoderately, at their borrowed wit, as they ridicule 
the demands and pretensions of those who insist upon larger 
liberty for proscribed classes and, in their opinion, make much 
ado about nothing. Nearly all of our modern reformers wear 
their hair as custom requires, whether custom has the right to 
dictate to them or not. It is a matter of surprise that the 
feeble-minded contingent, with its battle cry, long-haired men 
and short-haired women still cumbers the earth, but it does, 
and none but God knows why. It is possible that fools are 
social necessities and that idiots are proofs of depravity that 
will exist, as object lessons for those who proclaim. the fall 
through Adam and redemption through Christ, until the curse 
is lifted and the race begins a higher life in which character 
and not hair will make people respectable. 

In His own time the light of the world, panoplied with 
power, will come to dethrone the prince of darkness and hurl 
him into the depths from whence he came. When his reign is 
fully established the regime in which Americans, by withhold- 
ing the right of suffrage, class their mothers, wives, sisters 



104 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



and sweethearts with the irresponsible and dangerous elements 
of society, minors, criminals, and idiots, will pass away. It is 
possible, if not probable, that in the new kingdom the equality 
of the sexes will be recognized and the inequalities existing in 
man-made governments will be unknown. 




FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 105 



(^l^arley's eAppGal. 



Oh, lay my head upon your bosom fair, 

Oh, plow, with slender hands, my yellow hair, 

Oh, kiss me once again; 

Why laugh in scorn, despite the swelling sigh 

Wrung from white lips, too proud to cry, 

Though in the throes of pain. 

If you could know that in my stainless sonl, 
I deem your love my chiefest earthly goal, 
Your cup of bliss would surely overflow. 
If you could know my dream of coming joy 
Is your dear self, your love without alloy. 
Your spirits would not droop so low. 

If you could see, beneath my towering pride. 
The love that runs to meet an answering tide 
And knows no changing ebb and flow; 
If you could know the burden of my song 
In social whirl, or sleepless hours so long. 
You would not fear and doubt me so. 

I, from loves thralldom, nevermore am free, 
But cannot bend, too oft, the supple knee. 



106 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

And pour denials in the ear of doubt. 
Why can't you see that in my inner soul, 
There bides a changeless love, intense and whole, 
That puts all other loves to rout? 

You know me well, 'tis strange you can not see, 

That my imperious love, so proud and free, 

Will backward flow, when wrongly scourged and fought, 

And will not bear a doubter's stinging lash. 

Doubt ever tends, when baseless, cruel, rash. 

To breed contempt, where purest love has wrought. 

With lowering brow you hear me chide and pray, 

Your doubts have won; so turn in wrath away, 

Uncaring that I pray in vain; 

" Oh, lay my head upon your bosom fair, 

Oh, plow, with slender hands, my yellow hair. 

Oh, kiss me once again." 



The girl who held my helpless hands to-night. 

In the full glare of the electric light. 

And, though I struggled, kissed me too, 

Was Cousin Gene just home from boarding school; 

You'll learn, I think, when warring passions cool, 

That what she wills she finds a way to do. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 107 



)ome (J^l^risfmas ^l^ou^l^fs aAboaf @i\)in< 



Christmas is here and hearts are heavy or light according to 
circumstances. I hope our christian people will enjoy the 
day and imitate one who went about doing good in whose 
honor it is named. Men who don't feel liberal when Christ- 
mas comes are sure, enough misers and beyond redemption. 
Somehow the desire to give dominates christianized men on 
Christmas Day, as on no other, and the inclination to love and 
be helpful is very strong in those who are not wholly selfish. 
There is something in the day which broadens men and opens 
closed, ungenerous, hearts. The custom of giving is a beauti- 
ful one where the motives are worthy, but it may be, and often 
is, abused by people who are not experts. 

A gift, where love animates the giver, is a sacred thing, and 
is never given with the expectation of receiving an equivalent. 
The man who gives, in that spirit, does not give, he simply 
makes an investment. Those who receive real gifts, however 
insignificant, should appreciate them for the sake of the givers. 

Many gifts are either worthless or inconvenient, but where 
they are given in the right manner are highly prized by those 
who receive them. The offerings of the poor are often value- 
less, in a money sense, but they represent love and sacrifice, 



108 FR03I TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

and are weightier than the gifts of princes that are prompted 
by the love of display or the hope of reward. The gifts 
of children, often grotesque and inappropriate and seldom 
valuable, are evidences of childhood's simple faith and the 
will to manifest, by giving, the love that desires to bestow 
favors. 

It is unkind, if not vulgar and unchristian, for those who 
have received many or costly presents to display them vaunt- 
ingly to those who have been neglected. Somehow a sensi- 
tive woman or child — even a man, with his masterful contempt 
for trifles — feels neglect keenly and does not like to be over- 
looked by the queer looking old gentleman, who drives the 
reindeers, when he makes his annual distribution, and their 
hearts are heavy when they see others receiving so many 
expressions of love while they receive none. It is not so much 
the lack of gifts that troubles sensitive people as the fact that 
they are not in the thoughts of others. 

The children of the rich or liberal should say very little, 
about what they have received, before the children of the poor 
or illiberal who have received nothing. Oh, how many eyes 
are red; how many voices are tremulous; how many hearts 
are aching, in our land to-day because little hands are empty. 

The unremembered or neglected women and children whose 
stockings have been overlooked and hang unfilled on the 
walls — where they were hung in hope— appeal very strongly 
to my sympathy. I may be in error, but I believe that while 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 109 

men, who are so poor that they cannot give, are excusable, men 
who have well-filled purses and the ability to gladden their 
wives and children by bestowing little proofs of love and 
remembrance upon them, but do not do so, are either thought- 
less or cruel, or both, and justly fall in the estimation of those 
they are honor-bound to make happy in every proper way. I 
am not authority on hell, but incline to the opinion that it is a 
place where love never comes with its gentle ministrations* 
and where selflessness is unknown. The heart of a selfish man, 
who never considers the needs and pleasures of others, is such 
a place, and I would sound a note of warning to those who 
never take other people into their lives or calculations, who, 
if they would, fly from the wrath to come, must make room in 
their hearts for love and its offspring. 

The knowledge that somebody loves and remembers makes 
gifts precious, and, when none are received, it seems to the 
average mortal that he is not in the thoughts or affections of 
others. 

There are some good men who are opposed to observing 
Christmas. These, of course, are not expected to observe the 
customs that give the day its distinctive character. 

There are many fathers and husbands who have no money 
to buy presents and feel genuine sorrow because those they 
love must be passed by. For the generous poor, who have 
nothing but the will, there is a valid excuse, but for the stingy 
rich and well-to-do, who have everything but the will, there is 



110 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

no excuse, unless they have conscientious scruples about giv- 
ing on special days. 

I know no more about the actual date of Christ's birth than 
a hippopotamus does about Calvin's Institutes, and this fact 
ought to be explained, over and over again, as there is a 
tendency to give Christmas an importance and sacredness that 
does not belong to it. I can approximate very nearly the 
nativity, but the exact day of the advent is unknown. While I 
do not know the precise time that God's best gift to man 
reached the earth, I do know that, wherever Christian civiliza- 
tion has gone, Christmas is a perpetual witness of one who 
exalted the humble, raised the fallen, and gave Himself for 
others. 

Men can not give direct to Him, for He walks no more 
among men as he did centuries ago, but the poor are always 
with them and they can give to them, and by so doing give to 
Him, When the rich and proud rejected Him the poor and 
the humble received Him. When palace doors were shut 
against Him he sat as a loved and honored guest in the homes 
of the common people. The Christ who knew hunger, weari- 
ness and thirst, remembers those who, in their poverty, did 
what they could for Him, and has committed the poor as a 
sacred charge to His representatives, and woe unutterable will 
come to those who neglect them or refuse to help them bear 
the burdens that are pressing them down. 

If all, who can, will give something rivers of delight will flow, 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. Ill 

with ever-increasing volume, through the arid plains of our 
storm-beaten world and songs of hope will drown the cries of 
despair. If the fault-finding, unsentimental husbands, who have 
nothing that gleams like gold, will kiss the furrowed brows 
and withered lips of the wives who have grown old and hag- 
gard in faithful service as they did before age blighted the 
roses of youth, faded faces will freshen again. If fretful, care- 
worn wives will give old-time caresses and words of faith and 
tenderness to the husbands that, unthought of and uncared 
for, have toiled, fruitlessly it may be, for them through long 
and weary years, dead loves will come to life, and harmony 
build up what discord has torn down. 

Jesus Christ is love and love is heaven. The unfailing test 
of love is giving. Somehow I believe that when the unending 
Christmas dawns upon the earth, that before it breaks will feel 
His transforming power, men will be like Him. Darkness and 
contention will disappear from their abodes and sunshine will 
pour its golden floods into homes where peace reigns undis- 
turbed and across whose portals the twin devils of doubt and 
despair will pass outward forevermore. Love, radiant as the 
sun, will drive dark browed hate into the nether depths, from 
whence he came, and out of the scattered fragment of a war- 
ring rac6 create a common brotherhood in which each will 
serve his brother rather than himself. 

The day is fast approaching when men will give, not gold 



112 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

alone, but love and sympathy, like the princely giver, whose 
advent we this day celebrate. 

I wish the old men, who lean heavily upon their staffs as 
they approach the boundary of shadow land; the old women, 
who are patiently waiting for the clouds to rift and the gates 
to open; the stalwart men and strong women, who seldom 
think of the line that divides mortal and immortal worlds, over 
which all must pass, or of the clouds that hide from home- 
bound pilgrims the gates of gold; the sanguine boys and girls, 
so full of life, love, and hope, who see, far in advance, a cloud- 
less noon and a night aflame with stars; the unfortunate, the 
misunderstood and the unhappy, with those who face disaster, 
endure contempt and fight pain, "A Merry Christmas and a 
Happy New Year." I surely wish, though I dare not hope, 
that every stocking, big or little, patched or unpatched, that 
hangs on the wall of a wayside cabin, or an urban palace, may 
be filled to overflowing. 

If some who have enough, and to spare, will go in Christ's 
name, among the outcasts and into the haunts of the vicious, 
where debauched men and shameless women indulge in ruin- 
ous excesses, or sit in mute despair and pray for death, in 
search of those who have no stockings to hang up, and sur- 
prise them by giving, what they do not expect, it may be that 
some, who are ready to curse God and die, will thank Him for 
sending love into the world and bless the messengers who 
brought its tokens into the depths and made them luminous. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 113 



I^oberf cind -tl^G §far. 



He sat and watched the silent stars, 

Parade the azure sky, 
Saw Venus bright and regnant Mars, 

Above the hill top high, 
Saw in the depths, far, far away, 

In the enchanting light, 
A little star that seemed astray 

To haunting human sight, 
I watched his thoughtful baby face 

Toward my own upturned. 
And heard him tell, with childish grace 

The lesson he had learned. 

" Some stars are big and some are small. 

And none too old to grow; 
My teacher says God made them all 

To shine on us below, 
1 think the tiny, baby star 

With such a feeble light 
Is younger than the one afar 

That twinkles all the night. 
If it is old, why does it not 

Laugh with the rest 'till dawn? 
It must be young, or God forgot 

To put the twinkles on." 



114 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



Qene. 



So Gene is dead! Beautiful, wayward, faithless Gene. The 
man who wrecked her young life walks unchallenged among 
men and women, who never loved "not wisely but too well," 
do him reverence. She met death by violence, and left her 
friends a heritage of dishonor. 

I have read somewhere that God is merciful; and 'tis said by 
those who saw her in the morgue, that He burnished anew her 
locks of gold, and brought back to her pain-riven, passion- 
swept face the sunny smile of her sinless youth. The placid 
brow, the sleeping eye-lids, and the pouting lips, gave no hint 
of lawless love and unholy living, but were mute and eloquent 
witnesses of her innocence before she dallied with lust, and, in 
her delirium, exchanged the — 

"Lilies and languors of virtue for the roses and raptures of vice." 

Men spoke lightly of the dead Magdalene, and women 
shuddered at the mention of her shame; but may we not hope 
that He who, stooping, wrote in the sand and sat upon the 
well at Sychar will remember her great temptation and the 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



115 



unequal contest she waged with those who "set traps for the 
unwary." May He not remember that once she believed in 
Him and called Him by name, and in His matchless mercy, 
foreive His errine child. 




116 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



Some pamoas pai 09omGn. 



In big, fat arms young Nero slept, 
Ere he was crowned and martyrs wept. 

The sensuous "Serpent of the Nile," 
Was fat and crafty, bright and vile. 

Famed Petrarch's Laura, fat and fair, 
Had dimpled cheeks and sunny hair. 

Shapely but fat — pray don't forget, — 
Was queenly, gracious Antoinette. 

Fair Flamminetto, fat and tall, 
Boccacio loved the best of all. 

The virgin queen, with coarse red hair, 
Was fat and fickle, vain and fair. 

Though feared by priest and diplomat. 
Queen Marg'rite of Navarre was fat. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



117 



So, too, were those so famous grown, 
Whose graces Rubens well has shown. 

Like Russia's Catharine, fat and tall, 
Were Titian's beauties, one and all. 

Napoleon's cast-off Josephine, 
Was fat, and fussy too, I ween. 

Fat, too, was one well known to fame, 
The Madame Roland none could tame. 

Napoleon braved, could but despise 
The proud DeStael so fat and wise. 

George Sand, who with the scorners sat. 
Was brave and brilliant, smart and fat. 

Fat, too, the wise Castilian queen, 
Who sailed her ships to shores unseen. 

Like her who rules, beyond the sea. 
Our English kinsman, brave and free. 



And him, who trails fresh items down. 
And gathers news for all the town. 



118 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



^oW fo Bg}]gi\}g af a ^ofel. 



My Dear Charlie: 

I understand you intend to leave this summer and feel dis- 
posed to offer some suggestions as to your conduct at the 
hotels you may honor with your presence. 

Always speak patronizingly to the proprietor of the estab- 
lishment where you may stop, and authoratively to the clerk. 
Unless you do this they may not fully realize your importance 
A great many widely traveled men are careless and indifferent 
about the impressions they make and some are thoughtless 
enough to talk familiarly with the clerks. 

Never buy but one postage stamp at a time and never offer 
less than a dollar in making payment. Men who buy several 
stamps at once, and offer exact change when paying for them, 
are too considerate of the clerk, who ought to be kept busy so 
that on Saturday night he can draw his salary with a clear con- 
science. 

Whenever you can do so get the bell boy to run errands 
when his services- are needed at the hotel. Never, under any 
circumstances, hire him to go on a trip when he is at leisure or 
is not needed by the proprietor or other guests. Landlords 
and ladies are paid for the accommodations they furnish, and 
should be put to all the trouble and inconvenience possible. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 119 

The guests expect to be disappointed and will be if they are 
not. 

Never go to your meals on time. Undignified people, and 
those who are busy, do that. If everthingis placed before you, 
fresh from the kitchen and steaming hot, you will have little 
cause for complaint, and if you don't want to be commonplace 
you must grumble, not only at the food, but the manner in 
which it is served. 

Hotel keepers should be reminded frequently, and in strong 
language, that they do not render equivalents and are not 
giving satisfaction. They should be kept humble and not be 
allowed to put on airs, as they are liable to do. Gather up all 
the newspapers and periodicals in sight and keep them until 
you have read them. Others may want to read, too, and may 
be impudent enough to say so and suggest that you divide up, 
but you must, at all hazards, stand firm. They can wait, and 
should be compelled to do so. Possession is nine points in law, 
though the possessor is a hog. You can add a great deal to 
the general discomfort of your fellow guests by taking the 
papers to your room, Some ill-bred people may object, but 
you should not allow yourself to be influenced by them. 

Never graciously accept any explanation or apology that 
may be offered by the proprietor or any of his employes. 
Though you may be satisfied that no blame can justly attach 
to any of them, give them to understand that you have been 
outrageously treated and will devote the remainder of your life 



120 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

to ruining their hotel and diverting trade to their competitors. 

Make it convenient to talk incessantly in the reading room, 
where drummers and others are writing important letters and 
making out orders and reports. Drummers are said to be very 
fastidious about little things and may intimate that "Silence is 
golden" and that "Your room is better than your company," 
and may even go so far as to tell you that the office, and not 
the reading room, is the place for linguistic exhibitions and 
encounters, but you must stand up for your rights and talk 
right on whether any body listens or not. Drummers are all 
right in their places, but what right have they to dictate to a 
young man of elegant leisure on a pleasure trip? Do every- 
thing you can — with safety — to annoy them, when they want 
quiet and seclusion, and you may depend on their hatred and 
contempt "without money and without price," and may feel 
sure that by your impertinence you have made the hotel odious 
to them. 

If, at any time, you see the clerk balancing his accounts or 
busy assigning rooms to new arrivals, do your level best to 
draw him into a private conversation. If he shows a disposi- 
tion to ignore your efforts, get highly indignant, and if you are 
confident that you are a better man physically than he is, tell 
him that he is no gentleman and advise him to go to some 
school of politeness and learn good manners, and then suggest 
to the proprietor that a change in his office force will increase 
his business a hundred fold. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 12 L 

If you intend staying several days be careful not to say any- 
thing about rates, when you register, and call for the best room 
in the hotel. When you settle demand the lowest weekly rates. 
If the clerk suggests that, in the absence of any agreement to 
the contrary, it was expected that you would pay the usual 
rates for transient guests, and that less desirable room are 
usually furnished weekly and monthly customers at boarding 
house prices, work yourself into a passion and insist that you 
did make arrangements, and if he does not do as you want him 
to, go to the proprietor and insist upon your rights. Tell him 
you don't propose to be robbed and that his clerk is an ass 
any way. 

While you are in town cultivate with great assiduity the 
acquaintance of the unemployed and have your friends c.all 
regularly and take possession of the ofifice and reading room. 
A great many people think that the chairs in a hotel are for 
guests, but this is not so. They are for the use of those who 
board elsewhere and spend their leisure in discussing local 
affairs in public places. Guests who pay $2 a day are able to 
furnish their own chairs. 

Always give your orders to servants in an indistinct tone 
and abuse them roundly if they do not understand. Never tell 
one exactly what you want him to do, but, if he does not do it, 
report him to the proprietor and insist that he be dismissed at 
once for incompetency. Servants are employed for guests to 



122 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



brow beat and you will be expected to spit venom at them on 
every occasion that presents itself. 

When you are in the company of other guests never express 
an opinion until you have found out what they believe, then 
take the opposite view. If they are christians quote Ingersoll and 
assert that Tom Paine was the greatest man the infant republic 
ever knew. If they are Republicans vilify Grant and declare 
that Lincoln was a mountebank and deserved martyrdom. If 
they are prohibitionists tell them that the liquor interest over- 
stops all others and that whiskey dealers have done more for 
the United States than any other set of men. 

By so doing you will precipitate heated discussions and 
make yourself a nuisance generally, which will intensify your 
personality and make you conspicuous. If any one shows a 
disposition to be friendly and enlighten you about the crops 
and the state of the weather, snub him — provided he is one of 
the snubable kind. If he resents the snub, exhibits symptoms 
of belligerency, and is well muscled or handy with a gun 
pacify him by all means and be profuse in your apologies if 
necessary. 

By following my advice you will do your part toward mak- 
ing men weary of the world and worldly things and thus 
prepare them to pray for the speedy coming of the Kingdom 
of Heaven. 



FROM TAPS 7 ILL REVEILLE. 123 



I'm (;omin|, )4G\)Gr pear. 



I pray you pretty one so young and fair 
With sunshine nestling in your sunny hair, 
Come go with me this bright spring day 
To our dear Sunday-school across the way. 
The answer came, in sweet tones soft and clear, 
I really wish I could, I'm coming, never fear. 

The years rolled on and she, a woman grown, 
Was reaping, here and there, as she had sown; 
I saw her once again; Oh ! she was wondrous fair. 
With sunshine nestling in her sunny hair, 
Come go with me this glorious Summer day 
To our dear Sunday-school across the way. 
The answer came, in sweet tones soft and clear, 
I really wish I could, I'm coming, never fear. 

The years rolled on and she, still older grown. 

Was reaping, here and there, as she had sown; 

I saw her care-worn face that yet was wondrous fair, 

The white threads sleeping in her sunny hair. 

Come go with me this radiant Autumn day 

To our dear Sunday-school across the way. 

The answer came, in tones yet soft and clear, 

I really wish I could, I'm coming, never fear. 



124 FR03I TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

The years rolled on and she, more aged grown, 
Was reaping, here and there, as she had sown; 
I saw the wrinkled face that once was wondrous fair, 
The sunbeams resting on her snowy hair; 
Come go with me this storm-swept Winter day 
To our dear Sunday-school across the way. 
The answer came, in tones once soft and clear, 
I really wish I could, I'm coming, never fear. 

I pray you pretty one so young and fair 
With sunshine nestling in your sunny hair. 
Come go with me this bright Spring day 
To our dear Sunday-school across the way; 
Come now, say not in sweet tones soft and clear: 
"I really wish I could, I'm coming, never fear." 




FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 125 



@roWin<^ ©Id. 



There comes a time in every man's life when he realizes that 
his physical charms are passing away, and that he must depend 
on other resources to secure the notice and esteem of an 
exacting public. His hoary head and bent back, his shrunken 
hands and furrowed cheeks may be pathetic in their sugges- 
tions, and excite pity, but they will not charm unless they are 
witnesses of a blameless and self-sacrificing life. 

A beautiful soul makes a radiant face, to which people 
instinctively turn with love and admiration, though it may 
show the tracery of age and pain. 

One of the questions men are perpetually discussing is: 
How can a man be attractive after he has passed his meridian? 
As a rule, when a man begins to feel the ravages of years his 
mental state changes for the worse and his spiritual fervor, if 
he has any, abates or varies with his moods. When he is in 
perfect health, and his faculties are unimpaired, he has no 
experimental knowledge of physical pain and is optimistic 
in his philosophy. When sleep come unsought, and sleepless 
hours, and the nightmares of so many troubled sleepers, are 
unknown to him, his days are tranquil and full of peace and 
hope, but when age and disease beget insomnia and continuous 



126 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



depression and suffering, he becomes hypochondriachal and 
pessimistic. Life becomes a monotonous round of fatiguing 
duties and cruel disappointments, and unless he possesses the 
rarest of all gifts — a thankful and contented disposition, — he 
becomes hopeless. A hopeless man is a mad man. The folly 
of the man who thinks years constitute lite, and that age, 
characterless age, should command reverence is astounding. 
Age can be beautiful, and youth will bow to it, if there is 
something in it to beget leverence and inspire confidence, 
but it may be so monstrous and repellant that the pure 
minded will turn from it with horror. One of the most 
repulsive things known to human vision — pitiful and affecting 
though it may be — is an old man whose thoughts are unclean, 
whose language is foul and whose face indexes a leprous soul 
and life; who is, even on the verge of the grave, a libertine and 
a debauchee. The winter of life should be as serene and 
beautiful as an Italian sky when no clouds obscure its 
benignant face. 

The man upon whose head the "snows that never melt are 
falling," and whose back is bending under the ever increasing 
burdens of life should cultivate the graces of the spirit and sit 
as a willing disciple at the feet of the Great Teacher, He 
should, in every way possible, increase his stock of mental 
supplies and enlarge his spiritual capacities if he expects to 
be a recognized factor in social, political, and religious circles, 
and meet grim-fronted death, with a peaceful mind and a 



FR03f TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 127 

smiling face, when the curtains are ready to fall, and the last 
act in the drama of life is on. 

Truth is a fountain of youth, a perennial beautifier, a divine 
elixir, and he who holds and lives it will never be out of touch 
with the purest and best of his kind. Sensuous grace and 
beauty may depart, when the shadows lengthen and the light 
grows dim, but a sense of spiritual power and companionship 
will remain. It will not forsake him though he breasts alone, 
the merciless river that frets its sunless banks and murmurs 
against the gloom that overshadows it, but will abide, until its 
floods roll behind, and he enters, unchallenged, the land of 
perpetual youth. 




128 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



(f\lQ IsifflG Maiden's prater. 



You buy me bananas and candies sweet, 
And hold my hands whenever we meet — 

You darling impudent thing. 
You swear that you love me night and day, 
And make me as happy every way 

As a "coon" with a chicken's wing. 

You make me giggle from night till morn. 
With almanac jokes, "all tattered and torn" — 

You giddy, delightful clown. 
You flirt with the girls to tease poor me, 
And make me as wretched as I could be 

If my hair were coming down. 

You tickle my chin and pull my nose, 

Till I tremble and blush like a new-blown rose- 

You lovely, presumptuous tease. 
You tousle my hair and rumple my sash. 
Till I feel like knocking you all to smash; 

Don't do so often, please. 



FROiM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 129 



Business I^ales. 



Employes- are expected to come late and leave early. 

Any one keeping regular hours and making any effort to 
master the details of business will be suspected of sinister 
designs and peremptorily discharged. 

The janitor must quarrel with the office boy as often as possi- 
ble during business hours and read the papers while the pro- 
prietor carries in coal and sweeps the floor. 

Any one who does not abuse the management, and betray 
the secrets he may be entrusted with, will be considered devoid 
of spirit and instructed to call for his time. 

Any one treating the manager with courtesy will show a 
spirit of meanness and subordination that will not be tolerated 
and notified that his services are no longer needed. 

Any employe not drawing his salary in advance and taking 
days off in the busy season, without notice, will be expected 
to resign, to escape the humiliation of a dismissal. 

Mercantile establishment are equipped and run for the 
accorrimodation of employes and managers are employed for 
them to abuse when not engaged in neglecting business. . 

Every employe must do every thing in his or her power to 
antagonize the people who, with considerate treatment, may 



i:]a FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

be induced to patronize the house or direct their friends to it. 

Employes are required to cultivate the acquaintance of the 
frivolous and impecunious and ignore, or treat with contempt, 
the solid and influential who may buy or can influence trade. 

Any one answering important correspondence at the proper 
time, or making enrries in the books in an orderly manner, 
will display too much knowledge and consideration and will 
be notified to quit at once. 

Any lady clerk who meets a customer promptly and dis- 
cusses the merits of goods, in a business like way, instead of 
flirting with the dudes, who may drop in or pass by, will dis- 
play too much enterprise and too little sentiment and her 
place will be declared vacant. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 131 



fphe (Jail. 



The call to strike sounds o'er the wires 

From Eastern coast unto the'Golden Gate. 
Shall men obey and fan the smouldering fires, 

Arouse the murderous. force of human hate? 
They know that giant wrongs prevail and feel 

That toil don't always reap a fair reward; 
That greed unheeding stands while men appeal 

And shows the suppliant's cry but scant regard. 

Some men, begirt with piles of gleaming gold, 

Reck not of dangers toilers sometimes know; 
Weep not when hunger's piteous tale is told, 

Nor for the workman's galling want and woe. 
But shall men leave the engines and the shops, 

Forsake the lines that stretch from sea to sea? 
When roads shut down, and crippled commerce stops, 

Where will their brimming "Horns of Plenty" be? 

When times are hard, with stealthy, noiseless, tread 

Sore famine comes and stalks through stricken lands 
Or sits enthroned where men, in voiceless dread, 



132 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 

In silence brood and fold their bony hands; 
Or, wrathful, hear their loved ones' piercing wail, 

See filthy rags enshroud their shrunken forms, 
With glaring eyes and features pinched and pale, 

They call for war — invoke Mar's deadly storms. 



The solemn vows, where money weds with toil, 
Should blend the two in purpose and in thought; 

And they, made one, in struggle and turmoil. 

Should bear the burdens troubled years have brought. 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 133 



l^\}e PrJGsi and \\ii Mad (J^ap. 



A mad cap fair, with yellow hair, 
Met a priest upon the stair, 

Where the light was dim; 
Though she cried, away! away! 
He so gallant, bold and gay. 

Squeezed her with a vim. 

Holding high her dainty gown, 
She was tripping gaily down. 

Where the light was dim; 
Wondering why a lover's kiss 
Filled anew her cup of bliss, 

When she thought of him. 

When the carpet caught her boot. 
She could nothing do but scoot, 

Screaming down the stairs; 
Toiling upward, worn and weary, 
Came the father, faint but cheery. 

Like an angel unawares. 

Round his massive neck inclined, 
8nowy arms were fast entwined, 



134 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



Where the light was dim; 
Out of mind the lovers kiss, 
Gone the brimming cup of bliss 

Of the maiden slim. 

Ere he donned the priestly robes 
And applied the moral probes, 

To his love pugnacious; 
He had hugged a village belle 
Hugged her often, hugged her well, 
Says a scribe veracious. 

When the mad cap, wild with fright. 
Falling, calling, through the night, 

Headed down the stair; 
He recalled the village beauty, 
Cursed the trumpet call of duty. 

Ringing in the air. 

Cursed the Bishop and the Pope, 
Cloister, sack cloth, knotted rope, 

And his vows infernal; . 
When she fell into his arms. 
Conscience rang no dread alarms 

Brought him bliss supernal. 



He, oft wrapped in meditation, 

O'er the problems of creation. 

And the ways of Eve; 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 13o 

Thought not of a races' glory, 
Whose traditions, old and hoary, 

He, with facts, could interweave. 

He forgot that woman fell, 
Opening wide the way to hell, 

When the world was young, 
Tempted men throughout the ages. 
Conquered censors, priests and sages, 

With the songs she sung, 

He forgot that legends old. 
Faded parchments fold on fold. 

Told the ruin woman wrought; 
And that weak, despairing man, 
Ever since the race began 

'Gainst her wiles had fought. 

Forgot the legends, weird and old, 
Forgot the parchments fold on fold 

And monkish dreams of duty; 
Although she cried away! away! 
He so gallant grown and gay 

Paid tribute to her beauty. 



Mad cap fair, with yellow hair. 
Tumbling headlong down the stair. 



136 



FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 



Where the Hght is dim; 
Why cry out away! away! 
When a father, bold and gay, 

Hugs you with a vim? 

Trembling womanvcalm your fears. 
Why should you dissolve in tears, 

When he says 'tis well? 
Fathers grave, with pallid faces, 
Wisdom rare and courtly graces. 

Sometimes hug but never tell, 




